Adele
by MsLyoness
Summary: Being second-in-command of a company is hard. Dealing with an old lover, a strange secretary, and two meddling Senior VPs is even harder. Step inside the world of Reginald Bishamonten, who just wants to be left alone.
1. Boardroom Generals

**Prologue: Rings**

_In which our heroine is given jewelry by our hero_

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(December 1994, Philadelphia)

In a nice neighborhood, in the nice bedroom of a nice house, something nice was happening. No, not sex! Something different and not as enjoyable, but still fun. It was the night before Christmas Eve, and that meant a get-together, at least to the occupants of the room. So they were getting ready, dressing up to show the world, "Hey, look how good-looking we are! See how much pride we take in our appearances?" Yes, being dashing and gorgeous was nice, especially when accompanied by those little, intimate gestures couples perform when they get ready together.

The woman placed the pendant on its chain around her neck, admiring herself in the mirror and proclaiming, "You know, Reginald, I _do_ like green. It goes well with my coloring."

"And it would compliment your dress tonight, for that perfect Christmas color scheme," the man murmured, fixing one of the red straps. "Don't you have anything green, jewelry-wise?" he asked, his hand lingering on the bare skin of her upper arm.

She shook her head, glossy dark hair caressing her shoulders with the movement, and answered, "No. Well, I mean, yes, but a mint, almost aqua green, very pale. The dress needs something vibrant, like emerald. Something so green it almost grabs the eye."

"Hmm." He considered, then snapped his fingers and smiled, "I have just the thing. Wait right there, don't go away."

As she turned to watch him curiously, he crossed to his dresser and opened a small box with a smug, "After all, this is an important business party. I can't have my girlfriend showing up without appropriate accessories," he chuckled, and she smiled as well.

"Oh, did you get me a gift?" she asked rather hopefully. She adored gifts, especially gifts of jewelry. He'd already bought her a number of bracelets and necklaces, all of which she treasured.

"Well," he murmured, pulling something out, "I didn't _get _it for you, but it's a gift anyway. You can keep it, I want you to." He hid it in his hand and came forwards, telling her, "All right… this is for you."

He opened his hand, and she gasped. A thick, gold class ring with a round green cabochon sparked in the light, and yes indeed, the color of the stone almost did grab the eye. On one side, "RCB". On the other, "1991", and set in the middle of the stone, the crest of Saint Lazarus College. This was a prized possession of his, one he often wore to impress people, but not tonight.

"But," she protested, "Reginald, that's your –"

"I know," he shrugged carelessly. "But I want you to have it." He smiled down at her and continued, "It would look lovely on a wide chain, I don't think it would fit any of your fingers besides your thumb."

"I'm not into wearing chunky rings anyway," she murmured absently, reaching her hand over the ring but not picking it up. "But I can't take an emerald –"

"It's not emerald, it's green onyx," he told her quickly. "A beautiful stone, but harder and not as rare. It's often mistaken by the naked eye for emerald or jade, though. It is often dyed, but this one is untreated."

She considered this, and admitted, "It is beautiful… but I mean it, do you really want to give me –?"

"Yes," he assured her, taking hold of her hand and gently dropping the ring into it. "Wear it tonight. Wear it whenever you want. I love you. So it's yours," he informed her, and kissed her forehead.

She smiled and kissed his cheek, and then agreed, "Well, all right then. I'll have to change my earrings to match the gold, but I have just the ones."

As he watched her rummage around in her own jewelry box, he smiled as well and thought, _Soon… I'll get you a different ring, with a diamond and sized perfectly for you._

_._

(Eightyearslater, in the city of Zenmi)

He decided, as he slipped the wedding ring onto his bride's finger, that life was an exquisite thing. A gorgeous summer day, an archbishop officiating, and Kisshouten Megan Okami would any second now be Kisshouten Megan _Bishamonten_. God was good, he'd been blessed, hallelujah. He barely heard the "And do you, Reginald Clarence, take this woman to be your wife…" speech, he was grinning so hard.

And Xavier Koumokuten could tell. "Hey Aaron," he whispered to the big man next to him as his daughter Tamara yawned, "he's in la-la land."

Aaron Zouchouten gave him a look. It was a _wedding_,guests shouldn't be whispering to each other during this most important day of the bride and groom's lives. He privately agreed that their friend was dorkily happy and no doubt flying with the angels right now, but c'mon.

"…As long as you both shall live?"

Bishamonten grinned even harder. His cheeks were starting to hurt, but who cared?

"I _do_," he informed the archbishop, Kisshouten, and the world. _Oh, I think I may cry with joy._

Kisshouten grinned just as hard as His Eminence Martin "Old One" Wheedleton bestowed his final matrimonial command: "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

And Bishamonten did. He did it so hard and for so long that Koumokuten's eyes widened.

"Aaron… do you think they can breathe?" he whispered, one eyebrow raised in skepticism.

Zouchouten whapped him on the arm, the equivalent of a regular man's punch. As Koumokuten winced and held himself back from yelping in pain, Mr. and Mrs. Bishamonten finally broke apart to exuberant cheers from the assembled guests.

The wedding party headed down the aisle in pairs, the strains of "Pachelbel's Canon" rang in the air, the doves were set free, the rose petals were thrown, and Zouchouten watched his friend practically float. Surely this beat the day Bishamonten had made second-in-command of Tenkai Corporation.

The minute he could, Zouchouten stood up. Towering over everybody else in the church, he moved down the aisle to shake Bishamonten's hand as Koumokuten glared at his suit-clad back. Unaware that by rights he should be a tiny pile of ash, Tenkai Corporation's Senior Vice President of Research and Development halted at the back of the line.

_Weddings brighten everything up, _he mused._ The office will be so drab in comparison._

At the front of the line, the best man watched his loyal subordinate get kissed on both cheeks by Kisshouten's mother. Arthur Taishakuten thought that was sweet. Annoying, but sweet, as he was well aware that Bishamonten generally hated physical contact.

But today, the redheaded overlord of the expansion division just beamed at his new mother-in-law, who was happily crying. A couple tears in his eyes as well, he turned to his father-in-law.

"Tentei," he smiled, "thank you. You don't know how much this means to me."

Tentei Okami, the descendent of samurai, beamed at Reginald Bishamonten, the descendent of British aristocrats, and told him, "Congratulations, both of you. I feel a little teary-eyed myself," he admitted, patting his daughter's hand.

Back in the front of the church, the seven-year-old Tamara tugged her father's sleeve and whined, "Daddy, I want a white dress! I want a bouquet! I want a husband like _she _has!"

She pointed at Kisshouten, beaming and accepting congratulations as Bishamonten refused to let her hand go. Why, it wasn't fair that that tall lady with the pretty hair got all that and Tamara, the best little girl in the world, didn't!

Koumokuten went down to his daughter's level and soothed, "Sweetiepie, you have to be a grown-up to get married. Someday you'll –"

"Xavier, don't crush our daughter's dreams!" his wife Melissa snapped. "Tamara honey, your daddy will buy you a white dress and flowers tomorrow," she promised, making her daughter smile broadly.

Koumokuten managed a reply of "I… will?"

Melissa glared at him, her eyes smoldering, and insisted, "Yes. You will. Now move along, I want to congratulate them too. Don't hold us all up!"

Oblivious to the drama of henpecked Koumokuten, Kisshouten kissed her husband on the cheek. Oh, this was the happiest day of her life!

She grinned as she accepted the same thanks and trite sentiments over and over. She grinned as she posed for what seemed like a thousand pictures. She grinned as Bishamonten helped her into the limo. She even grinned as they got delayed by a funeral procession from a different church.

The reception was held in the Landmark Center, an extravagant Victorian building with a three ballrooms (they'd gotten the biggest and fanciest) and catered by a gourmet chef. It was hung with wreaths of flowers, the goblets were crystal, and the chandeliers were like something out of "Titanic".

_Except our ending will be perfect, _Bishamonten thought smugly as he took his seat. _None of that angsty "my heart will go on" foolishness. My __wife__ and I will love each other until we're old and infirm, and have three children who'll listen in rapt attention when I tell them how wonderful their mother is._

Taishakuten noted his subordinate's gleeful expression, then scanned the room. Yes, most people had taken their seats, and when he stood up the stragglers would too because nobody wanted to annoy Arthur Taishakuten, President and CEO of Tenkai Corporation. Why, people on the street inclined their heads as he walked past, and they had no idea who he was.

So they dined on filet mignon, and drank excellent champagne, and smiled at the bride and groom, who were feeding each other every bite. And finally Taishakuten stood up a second time, raising his glass, and there was immediate, respectful silence.

"Well," he proclaimed, "you've all observed how very much in love the beautiful bride and the handsome groom are…"

As Taishakuten began his spiel, Bishamonten absentmindedly fiddled with his wedding band. It felt so odd, wearing a ring on his left hand and not his right. But really, he hadn't habitually worn a ring on his right hand for almost ten years, not since he'd had that alma mater one.

_Wherever it is, I hope she's treating it well, _he thought rather sadly, then shook it off. One shouldn't be thinking of old lovers when one was listening to one's wedding toasts. So he grinned some more, and laughed along, and held his new wife's hand.

"Hey Aaron," Koumokuten whispered as the cake was cut, "what kind is that cake?"

Zouchouten turned a look of pure exasperation to him and grumbled, "I don't know, shut up. …Looks like chocolate, huh. How odd for a wedding cake to be –"

"CHOCOLATE!" Tamara's happy shriek rang in the air. "Daddy, I want chocolate cake!"

Every head turned to stare at their table. Zouchouten grinned in embarrassment, Melissa hissed, "Xavier, do something!" and Koumokuten grinned nervously. Tamara just looked Kisshouten in the eye and asked, "Can I have some?" in her "little angel" voice.

Kisshouten and her husband started to laugh, and the entire room joined in. Sometimes kids said the darndest things!

"Yes honey," the bride said finally, "you can have some in a little bit." What a cutie. She would later learn that Koumokuten's daughter was a holy terror, but today the kid was a doll.

Tamara smiled in contentment. "Daddy, she said I can have some," she informed her father proudly. She'd triumphed again!

Koumokuten patted her head and whispered, "Yes, Princess. Now, be quiet until – ouch!" he hissed, wincing in pain as Zouchouten winced in commiseration. Melissa had grabbed her husband's ponytail and yanked, glaring like this was all _his _fault.

"Xavier, that was humiliating!" she snapped in a whisper. "That was obviously _your _genes at work. Tamara honey, tell your daddy to stop setting such a bad example."

Zouchouten sighed and drank some more champagne. Oh well, at least the office didn't have Melissa.

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**Chapter One: Boardroom Generals**

_In which Koumokuten wastes company time_

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(February 7th, 2012)

Arthur Taishakuten threw open the doors to his favorite conference room and strode in, a conqueror all set to conquer some more. The three men inside all looked up, nodded in obedient greeting, and waited for him to speak, shutting down their laptop, hanging up their phone, and putting down their coffee, respectively.

Taishakuten gave them a paternal smile. Ah, his main players, his "Generals", the men who had stood by him as he took over this company years ago. There had been one more, but he had resigned his position and now lived in Nepal as a Buddhist monk, silly man. The remaining trio were the Senior Vice Presidents, the most powerful executives in the company… under him, of course. He nodded to them as a whole.

Taishakuten, it must be said, was quite possibly the best CEO the world had ever seen. He took risks, he had a sixth sense for profit and danger, and he ruled it all. He commanded his company to attack markets, sack the city-states of rival corporations, and build fortresses of profit and stock options (Taishakuten liked war metaphors).

His underlings obeyed without question, because no one wanted to annoy him. It wasn't that he was a _cruel _man, it was just that, well, he didn't like being failed. He never failed himself, and could not comprehend why other people managed to do so all the time. They just must not have _applied _themselves, he was sure.

While he sicced his "warlords of the boardroom" on rival companies, they did not destroy them in a personally vindictive way. Sure, they would slash the sails, gut with cannon balls, and board, plunder, and set fire to the sinking ship of any other conglomerate that got in their way, but they would do it smiling in a "So sorry to hear about your mother's death, let's _do _have lunch sometime" manner.

Nothing personal, Bishamonten would often assure a company president whose stock had just dropped to so little value that he couldn't give it away. Just business, you know.

Taishakuten beamed at them. Loyal, driven, and wealthy themselves, his three Senior VPs were the closest things he had to personal friends, save his best buddy Karl. Why, they played golf with him (they made sure to let him win). They sent him lavish gifts on his birthday (he had quite liked last year's Mercedes). They even skipped family events to work on proposals (he tried not to make them do that _too _much, because it was bad for morale).

He smiled some more and said, "Good morning, Reginald."

Bishamonten smiled back, folding his hands and replying, "Good morning, sir."

His life _was _good. He was the man with the most power next to Taishakuten, he and his gorgeous artist wife were about to adopt a child, and his wealthy uncle had just died, leaving him even more money.

Taishakuten nodded to Koumokuten and asked, "And Xavier, how are you?"

Koumokuten grinned, fiddling with a stud earring, and nearly chortled, "Why just fine, thank you sir."

He was indeed just fine. Marketing, his division, was going like a maniac, his daughter was getting good grades in her exclusive private high school, and he'd just bought himself a new sports car.

The CEO turned to the final Senior Vice President. "And Aaron… you look –" he frowned suddenly, "down."

Zouchouten sighed, taking off his reading glasses, and muttered, "Just the weather, sir."

This was indeed a factor, as it was sleeting this February morning. However, while Zouchouten's slice of the company pie was also doing well, his dog had just died, leaving him with an empty mansion.

He brightened up as something occurred to him, and smiled, "Sir, I know what it is. I just need more coffee." He called over his shoulder, "Ellen, can you make me some espresso please?"

A white-haired woman with pale skin and blue eyes nodded seriously and replied, "Yes. Right away, sir."

As she walked off, Taishakuten chided, "Aaron, it's nine-thirty in the morning and you've already had almost an entire thermos. I thought you were cutting down. Remember? Just the other day you vowed to end your dependence on caffeine."

Zouchouten started to give him a weird look before he caught himself. "I am cutting down, that's why I'm so tired," he said in a studiously neutral tone.

Bishamonten sighed. Zouchouten's coffee addiction was notorious, and he privately thought the man's assistant should be reprimanded for enabling him. _My__ assistant cuts me off._

Said assistant passed him a file and murmured, "Mr. Bishamonten sir, I've found the info on Sweden you wanted."

James Yasha was a quiet man, very dedicated, with hardly any social life. Bishamonten felt rather sorry for him, and Kisshouten kept trying to set him up with this or that woman. It never worked, for reasons she and her husband couldn't figure out.

As Bishamonten read the file, Koumokuten turned to his own assistant and barked, "Edward, I told you, I want _caramel _macchiatos, not English toffee! You incompetent lackey, you've had two whole years to get this right."

Edward Varuna quavered, "I'm sorry sir. They were out of caramel syrup, so I thought –"

"You thought wrong," Koumokuten snapped imperiously. "I demand caramel. My last assistant also thought the caramel wasn't important, and he's on another job now."

Bishamonten sighed again. Poor Percy Rudra, he'd tried so hard. Same with his predecessor Walter Deva, and _his_ predecessor, and _her_ predecessor, down the line. Koumokuten had a habit of "executing my assistants for failing their overlord."

He was not a nice man. He made underlings cry as a hobby, saw no problem with turning his daughter into a spoiled brat, and had enthusiastically internalized all of Taishakuten's war metaphors and kept coming up with new ones himself. Not to mention that he used language sometimes that would make a granny have a heart attack.

His daughter was almost as nasty as he was, his wife was downright scary, and Bishamonten privately thought the entire family was crazy, what with their rabid devotion to putting down and climbing over anyone who got in their way. And Koumokuten had the dumbest slogans sometimes, like "We're here, so shut up and give us what we want".

Zouchouten was better, but one would still have to be stupid to want to annoy him. Leaving aside physical strength, he matter-of-factly destroyed any company that attempted to make use of his ideas, and had his lawyers legally eviscerate patent infringers. He also had a habit of looking at an opponent in a way that made them really realize how big and muscular he was compared to them, yikes.

He had no wife and never dated, and while rumors swirled that he was probably gay, anyone who knew him well and watched him with his assistant could see that those rumors were inaccurate. He adored Ellen Karura, but unfortunately for him, no matter how he fervently complimented her coffee-making skills she seemed completely clueless.

But despite all their faults, Bishamonten liked Koumokuten and Zouchouten. The three "Generals" got along well, and each of them was dedicated to crushing the opposition. So when Taishakuten said, "Take out this or that company," they all grinned and replied, "Okay."

And indeed, they got to say that this morning. An enjoyable chance to exercise their corporate might! What a wonderful day.

As they got up to leave, Zouchouten asked Bishamonten, "So did the flowers work?"

Bishamonten nodded, "Yes, thank you Aaron. We kissed and made up."

He and Kisshouten had had a spat, but that was normal. Spats were a part of sharing your life with another person, after all. No relationship was smooth sailing all the time, that would be just freakish.

"We're still a tiny bit on edge, but I'm sure it'll pass," he went on.

"The burning flames of _my_ wife's passion for _me_ will never go out," Koumokuten bragged as they walked down the hallway, and Bishamonten almost groaned aloud. Koumokuten's wife liked lighting things on fire, and he thought it was cute.

Before Bishamonten's brain could wonder if candles were ever used in bed, his mouth snapped, "Fascinating, Xavier. But we're talking about my marriage, not yours."

Zouchouten seized this idea and ran with it to escape more declarations of love involving ignition, and agreed, "Reginald, I'm sure it _will_ pass. I mean, you love Kisshouten so damn much, and I _know _she loves you too."

Bishamonten smiled almost blissfully, a man whose life was a-okay. "Yes indeed, we –"

"Hi gorgeous, it's me," Koumokuten grinned into the phone he'd just put to his ear. "We were just talking about you so I thought I'd call and say hi."

Zouchouten quickly ducked into his office, muttering, "Have fun, Reginald."

Bishamonten looked around for an escape, but except for hiding behind that potted palm there was none. He walked faster to escape Koumokuten, who just matched his pace, Varuna trailing behind and juggling three caramel macchiatos as Yasha kept up with his boss. And Koumokuten was still talking:

"Oh, I know you have a class. I just wanted to hear your voice. …Oh yeah? Make the obese little whiners cry, honey." His wife was a gym teacher, and Bishamonten felt sorry for anyone unfortunate enough to have her as their instructor.

Yasha was practically jogging now. "Mr. Bishamonten, do you want me to trip him?" he offered, so deadpan Bishamonten had to wonder if he was really joking. Then again, Yasha never joked.

"Hold on. Reginald, slow down," Koumokuten snapped. "Babe, Reginald's running like he's trying to escape something." He shot Bishamonten a glare and power-walked as best he could to keep up.

Bishamonten gritted his teeth at such doggedness. Why was this hallway so long? Fifteen more feet…

"I dunno. He gets like that sometimes," Koumokuten grumbled, then beamed and said, "Anyway sweetheart, I'm thinking of you in your gym shorts now… yeah. …Oh? Hey, that's hot…"

Thank you God, Bishamonten had just reached his office. He swung inside and barely avoided hitting Yasha with the door. Yasha glowered at the wall and grumbled, "Sir, I think Mr. Koumokuten's phone should be taken away."

"I agree," a cheerful voice came from the receptionist's desk. "We should drop it into a blender!"

Despite being very enamored with that idea, Bishamonten shook his head and replied, "No. Now Victor," he told the man sitting with his feet on the desk, "I'll be in a video conference most of the morning."

He reached out, and put the placard that said "Mr. Victor Kujaku" with "Secretary GOD" taped onto the edge back in its rightful place (AKA not on top of Kujaku's head). Sheesh. The man was such an incorrigible child sometimes.

"Stop balancing things like that, we're not an African village," he ordered in a bit of an annoyed tone. "Honestly."

Yasha went into lecture mode with a grouchy, "Victor, please attempt to at least act like you're taking this seriously."

Kujaku just handed Bishamonten a disk, smiling, "Sir, I typed up all the minutes from your last meeting with these people. They're cross-referenced by subject. And I put a few suggestions that might be useful at the bottom, just to be extra helpful."

Bishamonten nodded wearily and sighed, "Thank you. Now please hold my calls."

Kujaku was both a stunning asset and a thorn in Bishamonten's side. He was the best secretary the Expansion VP had ever had or even dreamed of having, but he was so damn _happy-go-lucky_ all the time. He'd been hired eleven years ago, by virtue of being the son of the former CEO, as an executive (nepotism had been alive and well then), but he'd gotten _bored_ with it.

Apparently he'd told his father, a year before Taishakuten's takeover, "Dad, I hate meetings and pie charts. I'm going to Miami!" He'd cheerfully resigned, driven his Mercedes down to Florida, and partied like it was 1999.

And he'd gotten bored with that too. So, after the "rebellion against the king of Tenkai Corporation", he'd showed up at Taishakuten's office. No appointment, no phone call, nothing: he'd just waltzed right in because security knew him, and talked his way past the receptionist.

"Hi," he'd grinned as he came face-to-face with the very surprised CEO. "I'm Victor Kujaku. I used to work here, and I think I can be of help."

Taishakuten had stared; he knew very well who Kujaku was. "You... you want an executive position?" he'd asked, reaching for his "security" button in fear that Kujaku had come back for revenge. "If so, I'm afraid I must deny your request."

Kujaku had shaken his head vehemently and assured him, "Absolutely not. I wanna be a _secretary._

"You see Artie," he'd continued as Taishakuten stared even harder in shock, "being an executive is so awful. Cutthroat and taking advantage of people… that's not me. But I'm good at business, and I like this building, and I get the sense you guys might need a bit of a friendlier image. I mean, your new head of Marketing was laughing like a psycho as he kicked old Bertram out of his office."

He'd held up his hands, palms out, and gone on, "I'd be 'a bridge to the days of yore', or however Tall Dark and Creepy wants to spin it. And I love talking to people, and dealing with little details. And as far as I know," he'd smiled sunnily, "one of your buddies needs a secretary anyway."

And Taishakuten had been impressed with Kujaku's irreverent boldness and good points, and hired him. He'd assigned him to Bishamonten, and it was working out very well… usually.

Bishamonten did rather hate Kujaku's excessive cheerfulness some days. The man was on it all the time, but when he had finished all his work and had nothing to do he started to think up ways to entertain himself, and that was a problem. He bent paper clips and made them into three-dimensional sculptures any art museum would pay money for, he answered the phone with exaggerated silly accents, and he typed treatises on the most random things.

He was an oddball. So smart he was easily bored, but lacking the need to step on other people on the way up, he took his secretary's salary without complaint and resisted all attempts at promotion. "I like Reginald," he'd beam as Zouchouten tried to get him transferred to his department.

"But with your insight and drive," Zouchouten would attempt, "I'm sure we could come up with –"

Kujaku would then answer the phone in an even stupider accent, or page someone with a made-up silly name, or bounce a rubber band ball off Zouchouten's chest, and stress, "I like it here. Now run off and tell Ellen she needs to give you less espresso, you look upset."

Indeed, as Bishamonten came out of his office for lunch today, Zouchouten stomped off and slammed the door so hard all the pictures fell off that wall. Clearly his latest attempt to gain a genius engineer had failed as well, and Bishamonten had to wonder what Kujaku had done to say "no" this time.

"Ooh, he's pissy again," Kujaku said gleefully as Yasha hastened to re-hang the framed prints. "It's a new pastime: Aaron-baiting, instead of bear-baiting."

Bishamonten just sighed once more. He'd ordered Zouchouten to knock it off, but apparently the lure of Kujaku's brilliant mind was too shiny and tempting to ignore. Like a magpie or a ferret, Zouchouten just couldn't leave it alone.

"Victor," Bishamonten told his secretary, "I think you could be a little less passive-aggressive with him."

Kujaku twirled in his chair as Yasha hung up the last picture, and laughed, "But it's so much more _fun _this way. And speaking of fun, I need next Tuesday off. Oh, next Tuesday will be just _so_ enjoyable!"

As Yasha turned ever so slightly pink behind his back, Bishamonten frowned and answered, "Absolutely not. James is already taking that day off work. It's been on the calendar for months."

Kujaku gave him a wide-eyed, deceptively innocent look. "Yup. I know that," he replied. "I wrote it on the calendar, after all."

"Victor," Yasha snapped, "Mr. Bishamonten said 'no', and he meant 'no'. How do you expect the man to cope with things here minus both his secretary _and_ assistant? That's just not fair."

Kujaku almost pouted as he shot back, "But James, there are so many secretaries who can fill in! It won't matter if you and I –"

"The matter is closed," Bishamonten snapped imperiously. "Victor, put down that Transformer action figure. James, that picture is fine, you don't need to adjust it anymore. Now, I am heading to lunch. If anyone important calls, tell them I'll call them back as soon as possible."

With that, he walked out and shut the door carefully. If any more pictures fell down, Yasha would no doubt spend an hour making sure they were perfectly straight.

The door opened again, and Kujaku grabbed Bishamonten's arm with an urgent, "Look, it's important! I need to spend time with my baby." He threw himself to his knees, held up his clasped hands, and begged, "Pleeease?"

Bishamonten glowered down at him, and commanded, "Get up, you're making a scene. This is not drama club, and why can't you be normal?"

Ignoring his command, Kujaku grabbed his leg this time and wheedled, "Hey Reginald, if you give me next Tuesday off I promise not to play around until then. I'll even sit quietly at my desk and read, I dunno, A Separate Peace or something so I won't laugh. That book sucks major mold."

Bishamonten's resolve was starting to waver, but… "I can't give you that day off, because it's James's birthday. Making him work on his birthday when I've promised him he could stay home would be cruel."

Kujaku gave him a "duh" look and sighed, "I'm aware of that." He grinned suddenly and informed the world, "Boy, I sure hope James spends his day off being catered to and being given sexy gifts. Like 'Frederick's Of Hollywood' undergarments."

The rather startled Bishamonten blinked down at his secretary. "How… nice that would be," he said somewhat faintly, a bit disturbed by the idea of Yasha wearing such things.

Kujaku gave him a shining smile so white and perfect it was nearly blinding, and went on, "But sir, you know, if –"

"Victor," Yasha snarled, yanking Kujaku up by his shirt collar, "don't bother him anymore. Accept it gracefully and move on!" He glared at the shorter man, his teeth gritted and his face red. Clearly, he'd heard the sexy gifts bit.

But Bishamonten had decided that a quiet, meek, wallflower of a secretary couldn't be passed up, even if it only was for a week, and generously said, "You may have next Tuesday off as well, Victor. Now I expect our deal to be effective immediately."

He walked off down to the cafeteria, leaving Yasha to glare at Kujaku and fold his arms.

_Poor James… he finally takes a day off, and Victor wants the same one off as well. What a great friend, _Bishamonten thought sarcastically.

.

After an excellent lunch, most of which was spent fantasizing on how lovely it would be to have a normal secretary, Bishamonten paid a visit to his beloved boss. Taishakuten's office was a massive chamber, guarded by a secretary and with a desk almost as big as a bed. Before he could enter this "throne room", though, he needed to alert his "king" to his presence, because no one just dropped in on Taishakuten unannounced.

Bishamonten studied the secretary. Taishakuten actually had two: twin sisters, Kuyou and Hanranya. They looked exactly alike, with thick glasses (in another time and place they would have been blind), long white hair, and the same almost otherworldly air. They even sounded alike.

But there was one surefire way to tell them apart. This way was to watch them with their boss, because while Hanranya thought Taishakuten was God, Kuyou hated him and gave him poisonous glares whenever he wasn't looking. She was passive-aggressive and once "forgot" to tell him that a Presidential candidate was visiting, and there was a pool on when she'd be fired.

People often wondered why she was still in Taishakuten's employ, but nobody ever asked her or her sister. Maybe she really needed the money. Maybe she secretly enjoyed her job. Or maybe she only stayed because Hanranya was here, even though they argued a lot too.

"Hello, Ms. Seering," Bishamonten hedged, unable to tell who he was talking to. "May I see Taishakuten?"

No one ever called him by his first name. While the Senior VPs, their assistants, and his own assistant could drop the "Mr.", "Mr. Taishakuten" or "sir" was the normal mode of address. Save for Kujaku, who for some inexplicable reason got away with calling him "Artie".

"Yes Mr. Bishamonten, you may," she smiled, then pressed a button. "Sir," she trilled into the intercom, "Mr. Bishamonten is here." Her tone was respectful and pleasant, and she said the word "sir" as if it meant "my reason for living".

Ah, this was Hanranya then. "Thank you, Hanranya," Bishamonten murmured, then asked, "Did you have a nice weekend?"

"Oh yes sir," she replied demurely. "And you?"

"Wonderful, thank you."

They smiled at each other somewhat awkwardly, because he found her slightly unnerving and she was scared of him. Her almost manic subservience to her boss had earned her the office nickname of "Scary Seering", because she'd once announced that she would cut off her own head if Taishakuten had wanted it.

For her part, Hanranya thought Bishamonten was a ruthless bastard. After all, he was the one who attacked the most opposing companies and kept tabs on this one. Although he hadn't gone so far as to use surveillance in the skyscraper (yet), he had a network of spies both in Tenkai Corporation and out.

"Hanranya?" Taishakuten's voice said over the intercom. "Tell him he's allowed in."

"Yes sir!" she replied fervently, and nodded at Bishamonten. "He's allowing you in, sir," she paraphrased, waving her hand grandly like a conductor. "Go ahead."

He nodded as well and strode past Hanranya's desk to the imposing oak doors, which had little crowns in brass on them. Pushing them open, he was greeted by the sight of two people studying a computer screen on the giant desk, in front of a wall of windows with a view urban photographers would sell their mothers for.

One of these people was of course Taishakuten, the other was his assistant, one Nina Souma. Her dad had been the CEO's assistant before her, and when he'd retired Souma had stepped into the breach. It was a sense of duty more than anything else, as she kind of despised her boss personally.

But then, very few people liked that man personally. Souma often amused herself by imagining an anvil falling on his longhaired head, but she was able to smile and obey and be a great assistant. She was excellent at what she did.

"Nina," Taishakuten once told her, "if I am the king, you are my alchemist, turning the dross of data and appointments into business gold. Now get me another flash drive."

"Ah, Reginald," he said now, looking up. "Right on time, as usual."

Bishamonten was always on time. He was a perfectionist with a smattering of OCD tendencies, and if he was ever late Taishakuten knew something dreadful had happened. In fact, that had only happened twice: when his former assistant had set his desk on fire, and when his father had had a heart attack.

But today, as usual, Yasha was dutifully engaging in hard work and staying away from lighters, and Bishamonten's father was already dead, from a second heart attack. So he was free to stick to his beloved routine, and excel at it. And he foresaw no more problems, thankfully.

"Nina," Taishakuten decreed, "you may go. Tell Xavier I want the new ad campaign on my desk by Monday, or heads will roll. Our products are only as good as our ads make them out to be, and his last offering was sub-par. Inform him that if he doesn't come up with a better idea, I will give him a pay cut."

Tenkai Corporation made electronic devices, from computers to smartphones to video games. It was a sprawling conglomerate that necessitated its own advertising division; usually production companies hired an outside firm for that.

And it kept expanding into other ventures too. It acquired smaller, lesser companies that dealt in things from mining to books, so when Taishakuten proclaimed, "I'm the king of the business world," he almost really was.

And was he satisfied? What a silly question! He wanted more, and more, and more, and he was getting it.

Souma nodded as Bishamonten sat down in front Taishakuten's desk, walking off with a rather relieved gait. These little meetings invariably centered on "snipping off buds of disloyalty before they blossom", AKA what Bishamonten had found out about internal dissent and how to crush it. Or what he thought might lead to dissent, anyway.

She was glad she wasn't forced to sit through them, because who cared if Zouchouten gave his employees a slightly higher holiday bonus than what was recommended? Or if a low-level manager from Real Estate was palling around with a secretary from a rival department? Or even if a mailboy called his immediate boss a bitch?

As Souma closed the door behind her, Bishamonten was saying, "It's been quiet, sir. No one seems to be selling secrets, there are no conspiracies to unseat you, and ever since we humiliated and sued that embezzler from Accounting six months ago, no one's even skimming funds that I know of."

"Good," Taishakuten said happily. "A Tenkai Corporation under an iron fist is a safe Tenkai Corporation, wouldn't you agree? Far better for them to fear me than to love me, I think."

"Yes sir," Bishamonten assented obediently. "We can't have people defecting to other companies or plotting against you."

Taishakuten's worst fear was that he'd be unseated by a "rebellion". After all, he'd risen to power through just such a thing, and he refused to give up his lovely perks, obscenely huge paycheck, and intoxicating control. And since everyone in his company and most other ones was terrified of him, that was exceedingly unlikely.

Still, better safe than sorry, he thought as Bishamonten informed him of the cafeteria's shocking decision to switch from Pepsi to Coke products without his say-so. And dear Bishamonten was so _enthusiastic _about snooping around and carrying tales. He was excellent at toppling other companies too, and Taishakuten wanted to pat his head and give him a biscuit for his usefulness.

Instead, he smiled proudly and murmured, "Good work, Reginald. Oh, and I like Coke better anyway. You may go," he decided, waving an elegant hand. "I think today's the day we cut that annoying Blizzard Entertainment off at the knees."

Alas, Blizzard managed to survive, but Bishamonten _did _deal a deathblow to an upstart tech company that had muscled in on Tenkai Corporation's territory. Ah, it was _good _to be the General of Expansion.

.

"Lotus, I'm home!" Bishamonten called cheerfully, taking off his overcoat and setting down his briefcase. It had been a good day, with a deal to make Kujaku be somewhat normal, a lovely lunch of his favorite stir-fry, and an elegant coup de grace to a tottering rival company.

"I'm in the living room!" Kisshouten's voice called. He immediately walked over to that room, beaming.

He called her "lotus" because, as he'd once proclaimed, "The lotus is the symbol of enlightenment, and you have illuminated my life. You're a flower, delicate and beautiful, and I want so badly to have you." After which he'd pulled out an engagement ring, dropped to one knee, and asked for her hand as the hired violinist played a romantic little melody in the background.

"How was work?" he asked her now, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Did you finish the sketching yet?"

Kisshouten was a painter, and a very talented one at that. She could bring things to life with oils and acrylic, and watercolor and even pencils. She usually worked in oils, and her work won awards on top of more awards.

He thought she rivaled Leonardo da Vinci, because her skill and ability to inspire an emotional response with her paintings was astounding. Perhaps this was because her art was almost classical, with the human form and animal form painted as, well, realistically as they could be, not seen through an abstract lens.

He thought this was good, because a lot of modern art gave him a headache. Privately, he thought a three-year-old could do some of it. Kisshouten depicted backgrounds, props, and so many folds of cloth he marveled at it, and she never, _ever_ splashed paint around and insisted, "It's art! Sure it looks like I spilled it by accident, but it's actually very deep and has a message!"

Anyway, she was good at painting. She was a good person, period. She tried not to hurt people if she could help it, loved her husband very much, and had been the perfect daughter (her dad's friends had often wanted to yell, "Give it a rest, Tentei! I don't want to hear about her anymore!").

Other people, having just been metaphorically cut off at the neck in the business world, thought Bishamonten and Kisshouten were a good example of "opposites attract". However, they did have many similar interests, such as opera, romantic dinners, and talking about all sorts of weighty subjects.

She often thought he was a bit too clingy, but never mentioned it to him. Had she known about the way he looked through her emails, once hired a PI to tail her when she went on a business trip, and threatened a man he thought was moving in on her, she would have definitely mentioned it. And yelled at him for being smothering.

Still, most of that had been five years ago. Yes he scanned her emails for signs of would-be lovers trying to hit on her, but hey, she was his lotus, and he had to protect her, right? Right, of course she couldn't protect _herself_, being a fragile flower and all.

And there was a reason for such madness: Bishamonten still remembered an old lover who'd skipped town on him with no warning beforehand, and had subconsciously decided that Kisshouten wouldn't be doing that. That woman had been quite a different person than Kisshouten, however, and the artist was much less hotheaded.

The artist and her husband had a lovely dinner, a lovely evening, watched a lovely movie and drank a lovely nightcap, and went upstairs to their lovely bedroom, the one with the giant bathroom some people would have happily lived in. Wasn't it nice to be rich?

Bishamonten found himself humming a pleased little tune as he completed his evening toilette, and admired his hair in the mirror as he brushed it. He had such _unique _hair, with the front and sides that somehow defied gravity, those exotic strands over his ears, and the rest of it long enough that he could twist up into some sort of bun had he wanted to. He didn't; he just put it into a high ponytail.

Oh, wasn't he a lucky man? He was ever so handsome, and rolling in cash, and married to a wonderful woman who often got asked, "Are you a model?" And had a job he adored, crushing dissent and opponents and finding out everybody's little secrets. Yes, his life was so very good.

It was the American corporate dream: a mansion and an executive position and a beautiful wife. Gobs of money, two good friends who once bought him an all-expenses-paid vacation to Costa Rica (for two, but of course), and a boss who left him alone to help run his empire.

And then, a thought crept into his mind: _Am I really happy?_

He shook his head vehemently, as if to dislodge such blasphemy from it. Why, of course he was happy! He had all the aforementioned assets and the loving wife. He'd soon be able to hear a little voice calling him "Daddy".

And yet… and yet…

"_Reginald," _his great-aunt said in his head, _"you're one of those people who don't understand what they have until it leaves them. Now that she ran away you realize what she meant to you."_

He frowned at his reflection. Eugenia Bishamonten had been one of those wise old women whose younger relatives thought she was a crackpot. But she was right, because he'd eventually realized after her death that she'd been somewhat of a social genius.

Well, he sniffed as he brushed his hair some more, things would of course have been quite different if _she _had stayed, but surely he couldn't have been any happier, right? And for heavens' sake, no one could change the past. She was probably married herself right now, with a loving husband and three children, having put on weight and let herself go.

And truly, she hadn't _run_,she'd _bailed._ With a phone call, no less. Clearly it hadn't been meant to be.

So Bishamonten put down his hairbrush, turned out the light, and went to bed with Kisshouten next to him.

.

.

(Author's Notes: So no doubt you're all wondering who "she" is, huh? Well… remember "Tenkai City"? Remember who hitman Bishamonten had an affair with? Remember how I acknowledged that it was completely un-canon but I ship it anyway?

Yes: Shashi.

…Oh, close your open mouths, silly readers. Give it a try! If you can get past the understandable "WTF" reaction and read this thing through, perhaps it'll make sense in this AU.

I should warn you that as much as I adore Kisshouten, I don't adore her and Bishamonten as a couple. It's just… I dunno, she's so _un_manipulative and not nasty, and he's so arrogant and cruel in canon, and yes I've read the entire manga, and their unnecessary plot twist made me go "Oh hell no" ["I've hated you for centuries and actively worked against you, and now that you're dying… all of a sudden I _love _you, jerk who helped kill my dad!"].

So the main couple here _is _Bishamonten/Shashi [Bishashi?]. They deserve each other, truly.

That being said, I do not bash Kisshouten in any way, shape, or form, because I actually like her much better than her husband. I had her marry him for canon's sake, and because it gives the story a lot of its tension. Of course, there are a couple surprises in store for everybody, and I should warn you that a few relationships are AU. For example, our buddy Ku is not Tentei's incestuous son, that was such a dumb plot twist.

Oh, one more thing: this is a loose songfic. Now, I don't write the lyrics out and base scenes off of them, but all the lines from Adele's "Someone Like You" make an appearance, just not in order.

I know what you're thinking: "But MsLyoness, that's a _sad _song, and this is filed partly under 'Humor'!" Yes, and while there is some angsty soul-searching, much of this is funny. Really. Stick with me and it'll be explained eventually, I promise.

I don't own that song, any characters except some random background ones, or "RG Veda", but I'd like some reviews please!

In the next chapter, you'll see: Vahyu! That man is hilariously flaming and thinks he's the most beautiful thing ever. And you'll also see Taishakuten bash on children, and Zouchouten remind Bishamonten of a Disney movie with the song "Be Our Guest".)


	2. Electric Eels

_In which Vahyu yammers on about ad campaigns_

.

.

It was a week later, and Kujaku was being a very obedient, quiet, downright _normal _man, and had been for the past four business days. Bishamonten felt like doing a happy dance in the privacy of his office, because now he had all the benefits of Victor Kujaku, Secretary GOD, without all the off-the-wall cheekiness or strange pastimes.

Yasha seemed happy too, which made perfect sense. Being an emotionally reserved person, he was often at odds with Kujaku, and Bishamonten sometimes wondered how they could be friends. Well, perhaps Yasha was different off the clock, and secretly liked silly accents and sculptures, and treatises on things from telephone poles to mice to the planet Saturn.

"Victor," Yasha smiled as Kujaku read A Separate Peace and Bishamonten was in a phone conference, "it's so nice to see you be so calm and professional."

"I'm ridiculously bored," Kujaku sighed, putting the book down and folding his hands on the desk. "And this story is so dull I wanna cry. I wanted to bring in a Terry Pratchett novel, but those are side-splittingly hilarious and I promised Reginald I wouldn't laugh."

"I'm sure he appreciates it," Yasha said smugly, smirking at the boring book. "So for how much longer are you going to be so, well, not-silly?"

"The minute I walk out the door into the parking garage today, I'm turning up 'Weird Al' Yankovic on my iPod and practicing my German accent for Wednesday," Kujaku said cheerfully. "And I'll use it all day, too."

Yasha sighed and went to go print something out. Oh well, nothing good could last forever.

After Bishamonten finished his phone conference, he trekked to Taishakuten's office for that daily private briefing. He was a bit concerned that a low-level manager in R and D might be slipping some ideas to rival companies, and was eager to see what Taishakuten would order him to do about it.

Often, Taishakuten fired the perpetrator with no warning and refused to let them take any flash drives or disks home, and told them, "I know what you did." Usually this resulted in a terrified confession of misdeeds from getting incorrect change in the cafeteria and not mentioning it to selling secrets, because Taishakuten was very scary, especially when he wanted to be.

Other times, he would wait, gather evidence, and come down on the miscreant with his legal team, who would then destroy that person's reputation and funds. And once in a very great while, when it was something really, really bad… he would call a company-wide videoconference and publicly humiliate and chastise his enemy, and _then _get the legal team.

Today, he decided to go with the waiting and gathering evidence, and then figure out if he'd merely fire, or sue, or humiliate and sue. That was the way to go: make them think they were safe, then attack them with everything you'd got.

"Reginald," he purred, "once again, you've demonstrated your usefulness."

"Thank you sir," Bishamonten said modestly, proud of himself.

He _deserved _such praise and a giant paycheck, because nobody else would have been this diligent. Zouchouten might have taken pity on someone who bawled, "But my son has cancer, and I can't afford the chemo bills!" and Koumokuten would have rushed in and started firing at the first hint of suspicion, never gathering evidence.

"Reginald," Taishakuten was saying, interrupting his train of self-congratulatory thought, "next Monday, at six-thirty in the evening, I'd like you, and Aaron and Xavier, to join me in the Entertaining Suite for a small get-together. A private party, if you will."

"Of course sir," Bishamonten agreed. Sure it was after work proper for most people, but he often stayed late anyway. And the Entertaining Suite was always fun: it was a set of rooms on the very top of the skyscraper, surrounded by giant windows and so posh it was like something out of "Lifestyles Of The Rich And Famous".

It was a tad small, as suites went. But Taishakuten usually only took small groups up there so it seemed bigger and was even more intimidating. He adored intimidation, after all.

"It will be a casual gathering," he went on. "No dinner, but merely drinks and hors d'oeuvres. But of course that doesn't mean it's casual dress," he chuckled, and Bishamonten chuckled along. Anyone dressed casually in that suite would probably have to go cry in a corner in shame.

"We'll mingle and discuss how things are getting on," the CEO murmured, "and you will all, all three of my Generals, meet my girlfriend."

Bishamonten was very surprised at this. Taishakuten was the definition of "living for his work", and he'd turned down offers from models and celebutantes before. So this woman had to be… perhaps a CEO herself? Perhaps a politician he was dating to get more power?

"She is a doctor, a mother, and a woman after my own heart," the big boss continued as Bishamonten thought all this. "I met her because her brother-in-law works in this company, and she was invited along to a company dinner. You remember, the one you missed due to your wife's awards ceremony."

Bishamonten did indeed remember that, and the horrible guilty feeling he'd had. Art awards ceremonies were all well and good, but he should always be at Taishakuten's side! He was the number-two man in Tenkai Corporation, and had had to apologize nearly on bended knee for missing that dinner.

"She's a mother?" he asked rather suspiciously, sidestepping that residual guilt. "I thought you despised children."

"I do despise children," Taishakuten said testily. "Children are ill-behaved little monstrosities that need corporal punishment and to learn that the world does not revolve around them, no matter what Mommy and Daddy say. But no, her son is a teenager, and a very intelligent and mature one at that."

"Oh." Bishamonten thought for a moment with his head cocked to the side, and then ventured, "I still would have thought that would be a deal-breaker, though. She must be, er, very special."

"Oh yes. You see Reginald," Taishakuten murmured proudly, "she may have a son, but she is an exquisite woman. She put herself through medical school, very driven and goal-oriented."

Bishamonten could understand that. Doctors _had _to be driven, as they endured a competitive process of selection, years of schooling, and grueling hours if they worked in a hospital.

"What's her specialty?" he asked politely.

"Women's reproductive health," Taishakuten answered, sounding ever so slightly perturbed. "Anyway, I quite like her. Did I mention that she put herself through medical school?" he smiled, obviously pleased by that fact.

"Yes sir, you did."

Bishamonten was rather impressed by that. An old girlfriend of his had thrown a shrieking fit when she'd discovered the price to make her doctor dream come true. Clearly this one had found a way, probably through a scholarship or three.

Taishakuten beamed, "Well, I think you'll like her as well. Her name's Shashi Prince."

Bishamonten started to gasp before he caught himself. Surely it couldn't be the _same _Shashi he'd dated, the one who'd shrieked. She'd run off to New York to be break into Broadway, after all. He hadn't heard from her for eighteen years. Yes it was an unusual name in the US, but Dr. Prince was probably of Indian descent, the name was much more common there.

Truly, so many doctors these days were Indian. _Such a driven country, really._

And his ex-girlfriend's last name had been "Lipschnitzski", not "Prince". No need to get all misty-eyed remembering Shashi Lipschnitzski, the one that got away and trampled on his heart with baseball cleats.

So he put it out of his head and went on with his day. When he passed Koumokuten in the hall ("How's my fire blossom?") he rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to yank that damn phone out of the idiot's hands. Productivity was being affected.

When he passed Zouchouten in the cafeteria ("Say, Ellen, why don't you sit over here?") he rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to snicker. Talk about Beauty and the Beast; Zouchouten wasn't hideous by any means, but he certainly wasn't gorgeous like _some _sexy Senior Vice Presidents… er, one, because Koumokuten was worse than Zouchouten.

When he passed Yasha in the men's room ("Sir, I think Victor's stealing paper clips again") he rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to beat his head against the wall. If that was the worst Kujaku did today, excellent.

And when he went home and found Kisshouten working on a sketch of a woman clad all in lilies, he beamed and kissed her cheek. Damn, he loved his wife.

"Lotus," he smiled, "it's beautiful."

"Thank you. By the way Reginald, I've put the finishing touches on the unicorn for Charlotte's room," she told him, sketching away as she talked. "Once it dries we can take it down to the frame shop, and I'm thinking something Baroque."

"Excellent idea," he agreed. "If it's silver, it'll go well with the crib."

The baby's room had been made up for almost six months, and they'd had fun with it. She would probably giggle and clap her chubby little hands at the chamber filled with stuffed animals, kitten and puppy curtains, and matching designer furniture. The whole thing was done in pastel purple and off-white tones, and they'd made sure to leave space on the wall for the unicorn picture.

Bishamonten was ever so excited about adopting Charlotte, and Kisshouten matched his enthusiasm. Finally, a child of their own! Oh, it was fun to play with his seven-year-old nephew and all, but one's own child was something different.

The two of them had put off having kids, then put it off some more, then finally tried to no avail. And oh boy, they'd tried hard. Why, they'd skipped Taishakuten's birthday party that year to get it on, although Bishamonten had hopped out of bed at one point to call and ask, "Is everything okay there?"

Needless to say, that had been the end of trying to get Kisshouten pregnant for that night. And he'd been banished to sleep on the couch.

Anyway, their efforts had proved fruitless, and they'd eventually consulted not one but two doctors, who'd run a battery of tests and asked embarrassing questions with cheerful smiles and bad jokes. And after all the results had come back, the doctors had said that, while it wasn't _impossible _for her to conceive, the odds were stacked high against it.

"Fertility treatments also have a very small chance of working," they'd sighed, "but they might be worth trying. In fact, you might find yourself with more than one child that way!" They'd said this as if Octomom was someone everyone should aspire to be.

Bishamonten had been about to say, with total honesty, "Well sure, I'm okay if she carries around eight kids at once!" but Kisshouten had shaken her head.

"No," she'd sighed. "Why should we spend money and effort if it won't work, and there are so many children who need to be adopted anyway? We'll just go the adoption route, thank you." After all, she had no desire to carry around multiple fetuses.

That had been that… and unfortunately, they'd procrastinated on the adoption groundwork for a couple of years. Now that they finally were in the last stages of it, Bishamonten was wishing they hadn't done that. After all, he could have been teaching a kid their ABCs by now if they'd gotten on the ball earlier.

But no matter! Soon they would adopt Charlotte, an adorable little girl with green eyes and a happy giggle, who recognized them and lit up when they came to interact with her. She was ten months old, and Bishamonten and Kisshouten had vowed that she'd have the best first birthday _ever _after she was theirs.

And a hand-painted picture of a white unicorn, which had been a labor of love. Aww.

.

That Friday, Bishamonten found himself in yet another meeting, this one to discuss what to do about a recent acquisition: a company by the name of Barnes and Commoner Books. They'd been given Barnes and Commoner as a bribe, really, so they wouldn't set their sights on yet another electronics company.

The general consensus in Tenkai Corporation was "What do we do with a _bookstore _company? It's useless at first glance." But Taishakuten and his warlords of the boardroom saw a moneymaking opportunity in the unnecessary bone thrown their way. After all… it took in quite a bit of moolah.

So now here they were, and Koumokuten was about to unveil his division's plans to make them even _more _moolah. He stood up, grinned, and began.

"Barnes and Commoner could be the key to Tenkai Corporation's eventual stranglehold on all sorts of new markets," he informed the room. "And it's not so odd as you might think. I mean, they sell CDs and DVDs and such, and we can make sure _our _products get priority placement.

"Now, my Advertising team has come up with a great new way to repackage this drab little company into something hip, edgy, and desirable." He nodded to a man with wavy shoulder-length hair, an aristocratic face, and clothes that screamed, "Notice my body!"

"Charles? Take it away," Koumokuten commanded, and sat back down.

Charles Vahyu stood up and beamed, "Thank you sir. Now, I think our new acquisition deserves a shiny new theme. Ready? You're gonna love this: an ad campaign with jellyfish and electric eels! See, we can use electronica, maybe have the latest hit musician write a kick-butt song for us, and…"

As Vahyu babbled on, Bishamonten was completely disgusted. It was a _bookstore _company, for crying out loud, not an art or media company! Vahyu wasn't mentioning books or literature at all. And oh no, Koumokuten was smiling his "genius proposal" smile, and bigger oh no, so was Taishakuten. Zouchouten seemed equally disgusted, and finally put up a hand.

"What about the _books?_" he asked, in a tone one uses when talking to an ADD preschooler. "Maybe if you tied the eels into books about marine biology, but you're going on about supermodels swimming with Portuguese man-o-wars!"

Vahyu glared at this stupid, boring, unimaginative man and replied, "Books are old hat. I mean, hello, we got that company so dirt-cheap _because _books are so yesterday. I haven't touched one in two years! It's the way of the future."

Zouchouten, who stubbornly refused to get rid of his encyclopedia set in the age of Google, just glared. "And jellyfish are going to make books new and attractive?" he asked, sarcastic as all get-out. "Forgive me if I think this is completely ridiculous."

"Aaron," Koumokuten chuckled, "we'll phase the paper out and push the _electronic _books. And more importantly, the music and the DVDs and the little impulse candy bars at the counters."

Bishamonten was well aware that Zouchouten was going to growl about how you didn't go into a bookstore for the candy bars, so he jumped in with, "Xavier, he has a point. What if you tied the jellyfish into how interesting books are? Like… like a child picks up a book and the jellyfish fly out of it?"

Koumokuten steepled his fingers and intoned, "Reginald, I've got news for you: using your imagination is obsolete. With video feed and multimedia events, who wants to read a bunch of words when you can click a button and watch a clip? There's a reason every good book eventually becomes a movie."

Vahyu applauded his boss and chirped, "Well said, Mr. Koumokuten, sir! Now, in addition to the man-o-wars, we should have some of those –"

"I think," Taishakuten's calm drawl immediately captured the room's attention, "that Reginald and Aaron have a point."

He fixed Koumokuten with a penetrating, amused gaze and went on, "There is something comforting about holding a book, and after all, they don't need to be charged. We should capitalize on that. As Reginald suggested, I think an actor opening a book and having themselves whisked away to a land of –" he nodded to Vahyu, " – electronica and marine animals would work.

"By all means, hire a flash-in-the-pan musician. They're cheaper than an established one. But I for one agree with Aaron that our focus should be on the actual, physical tomes."

Vahyu looked disappointed, but Koumokuten gave in as gracefully as a man like him could with an obedient, "Okay boss. Hey, maybe the kid's in some boring, grey-scale room, and when the eels come out the entire room comes alive."

"Ooh, the kid should be shot in black and white film!" Vahyu suggested, getting into it. "And the supermodels are mermaids!"

Zouchouten settled back in his chair, smiling slightly. Bishamonten smiled back.

The meeting then went on to the subject of stock options, and then a shakeup in Barnes and Commoners' management style, and then whether or not they should change the name (they decided not to). Bishamonten dutifully took notes and paid attention, Zouchouten and Koumokuten followed his lead, and Vahyu admired his reflection in the window.

He was an incredibly, incredibly conceited man. His office had mirrors on the wall right next to his coveted awards, and he had one on his desk that he was always kissing. He usually got distracted by his image in shiny surfaces, and Bishamonten had once heard him mutter, "I'll make him _pay _for marring my beautiful skin," after someone had bruised him by accident.

And he blew through men like a hurricane. To get ahead in Advertising, you had to be a handsome, muscular guy with a square jaw. You weren't _required _to put out for your boss, but it sure helped.

It was discrimination against women and straight men in the worst way. Yes they could get promotions, but they never broke the glass ceiling of "Sexy Men Who Dig Mr. Vahyu". Bishamonten and Zouchouten were of the opinion that this was appalling, but Koumokuten shrugged it off.

"All those fags have to go somewhere," he'd once said matter-of-factly. "This way we have them all in one place, and Charles motivates them really well. They keep competing for his favor, which means the company wins!"

However, Vahyu was capable of respecting those who didn't throw themselves at his feet and plead, "Can I be your love slave?" He was good friends with Varuna, liked his boss Koumokuten, and actually did have some female friends, most of which were only too happy to talk about hair care products and fashion.

The problem with him was, he thought every man who wasn't a butch lumberjack was potentially bi, and had once even turned out a butch lumberjack. If he thought you were hot, you dealt with admiring glances and double entendres, and Yasha had once dumped a plate of spaghetti over his head for hitting on him.

Kujaku thought Vahyu was trying too hard, and at one point wrote a poem called "He's So Gay He Bleeds Rainbows", which he'd anonymously emailed to everyone in the company. Alas… Vahyu had thought this was funny, and had printed it out to hang on his office door before Koumokuten ripped it off.

Bishamonten privately thought Vahyu should be castrated. Then he'd be missing important body parts and would never, _ever _have the balls (oh wasn't this a clever pun?) to show up at Bishamonten's door on a conference trip, hold up a bottle of wine, and suggest, "Nightcap, Reginald? Oh, I see you're looking at my leather pants! Don't worry, I'm more than willing to slip into something more –"

"Comfortable" was never spoken, as Bishamonten had hastily shut his door, locked it, and called Koumokuten to complain.

"Xavier," he'd hissed into the phone, "he's hitting on me! He listens to you, make him stop!"

Koumokuten had immediately rung Vahyu up, yelled at him so loudly the Ad Manager's ear was ringing the entirety of the next morning, and threatened grievous paycheck harm. Unbeknownst to Bishamonten, Vahyu had pouted, flipped his phone off, and wandered back into his room with his latest Advertising boytoy.

"Well Ernie," he'd sighed, like everyone was out to get him, "Reginald turned me down, so you'll have to do. You may draw the shades."

"Gee thanks, Mr. Vahyu!" the infatuated and very stupid Ernie had beamed. "It's an honor to be your partner for the night!"

"Yes it is," Vahyu had said, as if this was something everybody already knew. "You may call me 'Sex God' and take your shirt off now, if you wish. And Ernie… tell me how gorgeous I am. It's music to my ears."

Bishamonten watched Vahyu stride off once the meeting ended, smoothing his hair back and smirking at Karura, who arched a brow and gave him an unimpressed look. Zouchouten's assistant was also of the opinion that Vahyu was trying too hard, and had once entertained a daydream of hiring a female stripper to show up at his door and insist on giving him a lapdance.

Vahyu would be either A: horrified at those disgusting boob things, B: appalled that a woman was coming on to him, or C: embarrassed that a member of the opposite sex had shown up as he was romping around with a random man, who would then cry, "I thought I was special!" and leave in a huff.

But she'd decided not to do that. So now she turned away and told Zouchouten, "Aaron, here's your two-o'clock coffee. I put in extra sugar to make up for the fact that you didn't have your one-o'clock coffee."

"Thank you, Ellen," he said sincerely, and Bishamonten slowed his steps to observe this interaction. Would Karura finally realize that "Thank you for the coffee" really meant "I love you"? Would Zouchouten finally stop beating around the bush and suggest, "Ellen, come to dinner with me"? Would this be the day that all that one-sided sexual tension got resolved?

"You're welcome," she said simply, then added, "I put the new figures on your desk, sir. Like you told me to."

"That's great. You know, Ellen, you're just great, period," Zouchouten tried, holding his coffee like it was the nectar of the gods and he'd die without it.

"Oh, I'm just a hard worker sir," she replied seriously, already pulling out her palm pilot.

Clearly, this was _not _the day that Zouchouten's affections were returned or even noticed, and Bishamonten had to wonder if they ever would be. Poor tortured man.

The poor tortured man set his jaw, seemed about to say something else, then sighed ever so quietly and drank some of that nectar. Karura didn't even notice, and as they walked off Bishamonten wondered how such an otherwise scarily smart woman was missing something this big.

Maybe she wasn't; maybe she just wasn't interested and didn't want to hurt her boss's feelings. She liked him a lot, it was plain to see by the way she smiled at him. Because Karura hardly ever smiled, and never at Bishamonten, Taishakuten, or anyone but Zouchouten and occasionally Yasha, Kujaku, and Souma. (Koumokuten wasn't somebody most people smiled at anyway.)

Bishamonten recalled that she had a younger sister who she doted on, so maybe all those kind expressions were saved for young… um, whatever that little girl's name was. Or something.

Or maybe she never responded because she knew it was a no-no. Maybe she adored her boss and fantasized about being with him, but was smart enough to realize that she'd be transferred faster than she could say "conflict of interest". Then again, Taishakuten was aware of Zouchouten's infatuation and hadn't even said anything to him about it, so maybe not.

"Victor, James," Bishamonten asked casually as he entered his office, "does Ellen ever talk about Aaron to you at lunch?"

Kujaku shook his head and replied, "Uh-uh. Ellen only talks about work and her sister Karyoubinga, who she loves like a child and never shuts up about. 'Karyoubinga got a perfect grade on her spelling test!' 'Karyoubinga sang 'Ave Maria' so well I wanted to cry!' Stuff like that.

"Aaron could probably ride a white horse up to her door, sweep her off her feet, and carry her off to Buckingham Palace and she'd protest," he did a bad Karura impression: " 'Sir, I have to make sure Karyoubinga's lunch is packed for tomorrow!' Then she'd hop down and run away without a second thought."

"Poor Aaron," Yasha muttered.

"Poor Aaron," Bishamonten agreed, then changed the subject with, "Victor, have those people from Brazil called back yet?"

"No sir," Kujaku answered, sounding ever so diligent. "Do you want me to call them again? It's been four whole hours! The nerve of some people in business," he sighed, adding another paper clip to the frame of what Bishamonten just _knew _would turn out to be Guggenheim-worthy.

"Yes, do that," he ordered, glaring at the sculpture in progress.

_Why do I let him get away with this? _he wondered, not for the first or last time. _Why don't I insist that he act his age and stop fooling around?_

The answer was one he'd never admit to: he liked Kujaku an awful lot, and always had. Kujaku had the strength of character to show up at Taishakuten's door and demand a position, and he was kind, and very good at what he did, and palled around with Kisshouten.

Ah, Bishamonten could use that excuse! He was humoring his wife, who thought Kujaku was phenomenal and a breath of fresh air in Tenkai Corporation. The two of them went to art exhibitions together, and Kujaku had been the model for one of Kisshouten's paintings.

Bishamonten wondered who'd bought that painting. It had been finished just a month ago, and she'd grinned and refused to tell him anything but "Someone you'd never expect, Reginald. I was quite surprised. Anyway honey, I think your cousin Shirley isn't a good fit for James."

Perplexed by this change of subject, he'd forgotten all about the painting called "Man With Black Wings". Well, it didn't matter, because _he'd _been the model for "God General", in which he was wearing fantastic armor complete with giant shoulderguards, standing in front of a temple on fire. And that one was in his study, oh yes.

.

The next day was Saturday, and it was snowing. But Bishamonten didn't care too much, because they hired somebody to clear the walks and plow the driveway. Oh, wasn't living in a gated community fun? And to be extra evil, you could sit in your bay window with a mug of hot chocolate and wave to the peons as they labored on your property.

"Reginald," Kisshouten told him as he did just that, "you do remember that it's Shara's birthday today, yes? And we're invited over at six for dinner."

"Yes, I remember," he assured her. Of course he remembered! He'd written it down in his planner, on his home calendar, on his work calendar, and entered it into his palm pilot and smartphone. Being on top of things was the smart thing to do, and heaven forbid he be surprised by anything in his life.

"Are we required to get her a gift?" he asked, after sipping some more gourmet hot chocolate. Their neighbor Shara Rasetsu was a sweet woman, but he didn't really know her well enough to think of what she might like.

But then he remembered that she collected lanterns and lamps, of all silly things, so maybe they could get her one. Oil lamps, shade lamps, stained glass candleholders with a chain to hang outside… the woman was a lighting fiend. She spent tons of money on them, and her husband encouraged this strange pastime.

Kisshouten had once asked her, "Shara, why lamps? Why not shells or… or agates, or even jewelry? My mother collects leaves, and my father collects rare books, but I've never met anyone else who collects lamps."

Shara had smiled that demure smile and told her, "It's an odd hobby, isn't it? But we've got enough room for them, and there are some very lovely lamps out there. Nicholas gave me a lantern for our first anniversary as a couple, you know."

Kisshouten had shrugged and let it go, because to each their own. She had to admit that some of the pieces Shara had were lovely, like the Japanese paper lantern with the sumi-e, or the Balinese bronze one in the shape of a dragon. She wasn't a hoarder and thus bought every lamp she saw, just a collector, which meant she focused on quality and variety.

So now Kisshouten told her husband, "No, she said no gifts please, just our presence. But I think we should bring over some wine anyway, you know, to share with everyone."

Bishamonten decided that all right, they could get rid of that bottle of Merlot that had been sub-par (he'd bought two, and opened one about a month ago. He'd never get that series again). So he smiled, "Of course. Let's hope it doesn't snow again."

He gave the peons one last smug wave, and turned away to go watch a movie. Which one, which one… they had an entire wall of DVDs, which Kisshouten had organized alphabetically and by number if applicable. He shut his eyes and randomly pointed, then crossed to the "S" section.

Hmm… "Spiderman"? No, Willem Dafoe's evil Power Ranger costume always made him sigh in exasperation. "Spiderman II"? Better, but he still wasn't in the mood for Tobey Maguire swinging around in Spandex. And "Spiderman III"… why did they even have that one? It was terrible.

"Star Wars: The Phantom Menace"? Absolutely not, because Jar-Jar Binks should be shot and buried in a volcano, and Jake Lloyd was a terrible child actor. Well, what about "Star Wars: Attack Of The Clones"? An improvement, and Ewan McGregor and Natalie Portman were quite good, but Hayden Christiansen was a whiny jerk with terrible pickup lines.

Forget the "Star Wars" prequels, actually, because he'd go with "Star Wars: A New Hope." He remembered watching it on tape for the first time fondly; his mother had refused to let him view it until he was thirteen, for some stupid reason. If she'd been alive to see some actual PG-13 movies now, she'd have a stroke.

So he popped in the movie that had started it all, and drank some more hot chocolate as Princess Leia's ship came under attack from that awful (and iconic) Darth Vader. He found himself sneering a bit at the special effects, but hey… George Lucas had done his best with what he'd had at the time.

As Bishamonten smirked at Captain Antilles' death by stranglehold, Kisshouten settled down into an armchair to read a book. She loved books, and went through them so fast her husband often marveled at it.

Today, she was reading a mystery book: Mrs. Teadrinker And The Garden Club Go To The Theater. It was, as one could easily tell by the title, one of those "cozy" whodunits. It had no graphic depictions of violence or any sadism, characters with very silly names, and a kindly dumpling of a protagonist, with recipes included. Plus the victim was always a not-nice person, and everything was all wrapped up by the end with a garden party.

Kisshouten liked the "Mrs. Teadrinker and the Garden Club" mysteries. They were fluffy, light, and humorous, with the added bonus of never mentioning terrible things, except of course for murder. They were a lovely little escape, and yes they were ridiculous, but it was all in good fun.

Bishamonten thought they were completely asinine, she sighed, but he was currently watching a movie where the aliens were all vaguely humanoid and a mystical energy field controlled events. So he had no right to judge.

She continued reading "Chapter Three: Oh My, A Body!" as Bishamonten grinned at C-3PO's huffy, "He tricked me into going this way," wandering in the Tatooine desert. Men… show them a pair of "cinnamon buns" and a couple blasters and they'd watch anything.

By the time Luke had blown up the Death Star, she'd gotten to "Chapter Twelve: Mr. Greengage Vanishes" and the recipe for cherry brownies with buttercream frosting. She glanced at the clock, noted the time, and reluctantly marked her place and stood up.

"Reginald?" she called into the media room. "It's a quarter to six. We should be going soon."

And so they found themselves at Shara and Nicholas Rasetsu's house, bearing the wine and wondering how many new lamps the woman had added since they'd last been over. And judging by all the cars, it was a big party.

The door opened, but it was not Shara or Rasetsu who greeted them. Instead, it was another neighbor, the one who lived across the street from them and right next to Rasetsu and Shara. He was a lucky young preschool teacher who'd won the state lottery two years ago, because there was no way in _hell _a teacher could afford the "Castle North Gated Community" otherwise.

"Hello Brother," Kisshouten greeted warmly as he let them in, smiling to beat the band. "How's Andrea?"

"She's great," he said cheerfully, gesturing towards his wife. "She said to thank you for the Valentine's Day cookies you brought over last week."

Kisshouten had gone a bit overboard on the cookies, and had given the extras to all the neighbors she could so she wouldn't have them around the house, tempting her. Bishamonten had protested that he'd eat them if she wouldn't, but nope… she'd insisted on _sharing_ with the buffoons who lived near them.

Why this particular buffoon insisted on being called "Brother" was a mystery to Bishamonten. The man's real name was Buddy Jones, but oh well. It was better than "Idiot Neighbor Who I Want To Kill At Christmastime".

For you see… Brother and Andrea took Christmas waaay too far. The day after Halloween, they decked their house out in LED lights that flashed (and once made a little boy have a seizure), giant blowup snowmen and Santas, and so many wreaths you could barely see the door.

And the worst part? On Christmas Eve, they hooked up a sound system and blasted "Frosty The Snowman" all… frigging… night.

No other songs to break the monotony, oh no. Apparently they'd met at a caroling event, and he'd asked her out while they were singing that song. He'd had it on the sound system when he proposed, it had been their song at their wedding reception, and they never got tired of hearing it.

It didn't matter who sang it, be it Alvin and the Chipmunks or Enya or even Tim McGraw: they adored that song, and thought the neighborhood should adore it too.

Kisshouten thought this was amusing and rather cute, but Bishamonten loathed the damn thing. He switched the radio when he heard the opening notes, and couldn't even handle Mannheim Steamroller's instrumental version. Which was a big deal, because he was a huge Mannheim Steamroller fan who'd once gotten Chip Davis to sign an autograph.

Brother was nice but annoying, that was it in a nutshell. He was a perfectly fine and even good neighbor most of the year, but for two months he was a nuisance. Andrea was nice too, but same thing.

As Kisshouten chatted with the elderly couple from three houses down, Bishamonten strolled over to Rasetsu and presented him with the wine. Rasetsu grinned, made an insincere protest of "Oh, you shouldn't have," and decided they'd open it in a bit.

"Nice of you, Reginald," he said heartily, refraining from a manhug because Bishamonten had once punched him in the gut for doing so. No other male touched Reginald Bishamonten without his permission, save for Taishakuten, Zouchouten, and Koumokuten, who could get away with a pat on the shoulder or a slap on the back, but only sometimes.

Conversation evolved from Shara's mother's illness to Rasetsu's job, and who would take first place in men's Division I college hockey that year. He was the head coach at Zenmi University, one who overused sports metaphors, never missed attending a Stanley Cup game, and had named his dog "Gretzsky".

"We're going all the way," he vowed, striking a conquering pose. "We'll topple the bastard swine from University of Minnesota-Duluth and proclaim the dawn of a new, Zenmi Warriors age!"

Shara clapped enthusiastically as Bishamonten refrained from sneering. Shara was somewhat naïve, and probably wholeheartedly believed that her husband could take an underdog team and mold it into one capable of defeating the 2011 Frozen Four champions.

"That's wonderful Nicholas," Brother fawned, because he thought Rasetsu was the most awesome person in the world. "If anyone can do it, you can!"

Yes, Brother's dream was to be just like Rasetsu, even though they were in different fields and Rasetsu hated "Frosty The Snowman", and often called the police when it got to be too much. Brother was convinced that being a pushy guy and saying things like, "Honey, where's my dinner? A man shouldn't have to work all day and then wait for his meal!" was the way to go.

Maybe it was the scars on Rasetsu's face that invited hero-worship. Bishamonten knew the story behind them very well, and it went like this:

One day, as Rasetsu was playing pond hockey with a group of dastardly rivals from the enemy high school, he'd stolen the puck, performed a slapshot reminiscent of "The Mighty Ducks", and scored. He had then punched his fists in the air and yelled, "HA HAA! Take that, you cowardly curs! This just goes to show that the Yukon High Reindeer can't be defeated!"

(At least, that was what he said he yelled, but it had actually been "HA HAA! SUCKAH! Howdja like that, bitch!")

And then those awful people had all piled on top of him for a free-for-all, in which one of them tried to step on his eyes with skates. Rasetsu had managed to turn his head both times, and ended up with slashes on the left side of his face.

He always skipped ahead to "So they stitched me up as best they could," leaving out "And then I cried like a baby, which brought my mom, who screamed at them and called the police, then took me to the ER."

"I suppose I could go see if there've been advances in dermatological care since that day," he'd always finish up, and then grin like a wolf and add, "But I like 'em. Lets the world know that I've suffered and fought, and come out of it a man."

Shara had once suggested concealer for important occasions, and gotten a wide-eyed stare in response. She'd then decided that oh well, he looked ever so rugged with the scars, so she'd never bring that up again. She wasn't one for confrontations in the first place.

As neighborhood parties went, it was a good one. However, Bishamonten couldn't help but compare it to Taishakuten's bashes, catered by high-priced chefs, with important people rubbing elbows and talking about important things, and everyone in business- or formalwear.

This one had decent food yes, but not _gourmet. _Everyone was dressed nicely, but he was wearing a (very pricy) sweater, not a suit and tie. And these people were not movers and shakers of the business world: they were everything from housewives to the author of Turning Macramé Into Cold, Hard Cash.

But oh well… it had still been enjoyable, he decided as he and Kisshouten headed back home hours later. Sometimes too much business was a bad thing… in a way.

.

Two days after that found Bishamonten dutifully working on destroying another company, Kujaku typing something up and humming "White And Nerdy" by Weird Al, and Yasha assisting with the aforementioned destruction. It also found Zouchouten sucking down espresso, having decided that quitting coffee was something only a superhuman being could do.

"Aaron," Karura said in concern, "Aaron, don't OD on caffeine."

She had a horrible vision of her boss's heart stopping, and he'd keel over and hit the ground like some sort of Ramses the Second colossus from Egypt. Uh-oh.

As Zouchouten assured her that that was an impossibility by this point, Koumokuten hummed the "Chariots Of Fire" theme and doodled a little portrait of his wife while Vahyu brainstormed ideas for yet another ad blitz. Varuna took notes, relieved that Starbucks hadn't run out of caramel syrup this time.

Kuyou, on duty today, nodded to Souma in commiseration as the dark-skinned woman walked to Taishakuten's office, bearing relevant files. Then the secretary went back to mooning about Taishakuten's best friend, who was due to pop in sometime that afternoon.

And Taishakuten himself grinned downright villainously as he targeted yet another market. World domination through nukes? Too messy. World domination through business? That was the way to go.

Yes, he was the king. His life was going just fine: so much money it was downright ludicrous, so much power he felt like a god, and a girlfriend who was not only beautiful but intelligent, and thought he was fantastic.

"Nina," he said offhandedly, "my girlfriend is meeting my Generals tomorrow. You've met her, and don't you think they'll be impressed?"

"Yes sir," she replied obediently, tucking a lock of black hair behind her ear, the golden claw earring on it jangling softly as it was moved. "She's very, um, forceful in her personality, and she reminds me so much of you," she went on.

She didn't mean this as a compliment, but knew that was how he would take it. And yup, he smirked and proclaimed, "Yes she is, isn't she? You know Nina, she thinks my management style is genius. Everyone else, including you, thinks it's too harsh, isn't that right?"

Souma muttered something like, "It's not my place to judge, sir," and privately agreed in the strongest possible terms. Leaving aside all the war metaphors, Taishakuten was heavy-handed, demanded allegiance but never gave any reason to deserve it except fear of reprisal, and was so arrogant and conceited he made Vahyu look like St. Francis of Assisi.

Perhaps, she sighed as he went back to his computer, he was different with his girlfriend and his best friend Karl. Karl was a decent man, a nice man even, and Souma often wondered how he could live with himself, being such a jerk's best buddy.

But hey, for all she knew, Taishakuten secretly felt bad about what he did, and…

No. No, there was no possible way that man was anything but a bastard to the bone, and Karl must have just been really, really stupid. Or maybe he wasn't as nice as he seemed. Heck, maybe he and Taishakuten sniggered over the CEO's piratical ways, and Karl admired such callousness and put up a front of being kind.

And Karl's son hated Taishakuten with a burning, laser-intense passion. Well, Souma sure couldn't blame that little boy.

She often wished there _would _be a plot to unseat Taishakuten, because she'd join it in a heartbeat. Yeah… she'd be the spy, the double agent, and when his world came crashing down onto his head she'd grin and tell him, "Guess what? _I _was the one who slipped them all the evidence of your bribery of public officials and shady dealings.

"Yes," she'd say triumphantly as he stared in shock, "that's what you get for driving my dad to the point of a mental breakdown! We had to keep him away from 'Forbes' and 'Business Weekly' in fear that he'd have a relapse. He retired to escape you, and he still wakes up muttering about the Innocent Tribes Inc. coup!"

Then she would punch him in the nose, laugh at his pain, and prance off to party with a pair of Playboy Playmates (ooh, such alliteration!), because she was a lesbian and deserved some fun after being that fucker's assistant.

And then, because she was first and foremost a feminist, she'd talk to the Playmates and make them see that they were perpetuating a stereotype, and deserved to be known for their minds and personalities, not just their cleavage and bleached hair. Not to mention that they were helping the patriarchy win, and making other women feel bad about themselves with a false standard of perfection.

Well, one day Souma would find a fellow feminist with a sexy bod and a personality so sweet, she'd forget all about Taishakuten's terrible ways. Yes, when that ideal woman came around, she'd be strong too, and talented in all sorts of ways, and adore Souma over the rest of the world.

Souma called her fantasy woman "My Lady", because she would _be _a lady. She'd be polite yet with a sense of humor, and they'd hit it off at once. Her Lady would admire Souma's looks and taste in clothing, and grin, "That skirt's nice… but it would look even better on my bedroom floor!"

Then of course, there would be the hot lesbian sex. And oh God, would it be hot! They'd get so wild they'd be able to make a killing if they marketed it, which of course they never would because that was private. But they'd go all night, and sure the neighbors might complain but screw them, because Souma and Her Lady would be making up for all those years they hadn't known each other.

"Nina? You're drooling," Taishakuten said condescendingly, interrupting Souma's favorite fantasy. "Wipe the saliva off your face and do try to keep your mind here in this office."

And Her Lady would agree that Taishakuten was a fucker too. Maybe they'd bash on him in between all the hot sex.

.

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(AN: "Frosty The Snowman" will make an appearance in, let's see, Chapter 17 [this fic has eighteen chapters proper and an epilogue]. Oh God, I hate that song, which I why I chose it as the piece of music that torments poor Bishamonten. And why is Rasetsu a hockey coach? Because hockey is a very violent sport, and he's a warrior, after all. I could have taken or left him in the manga, so he won't play a very big role here.

Kisshouten's book does not exist. My mother is a mystery book fiend, and while some of them are great and amusing… so many make me want to roll my eyes in exasperation. And as far as I know, the macramé book doesn't exist either. Oh, and I actually really like "Star Wars", even much of the prequels.

In the next chapter, you'll get Shashi's triumphant return and Koumokuten sucking up. This will be interesting, won't it?)


	3. Shattered Glass

**Shattered Glass**

_In which our hero and heroine are reintroduced_

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.

The next day, at six-twenty in the evening, Bishamonten smirked as he stepped into one of the many elevators in the Tenkai Corporation skyscraper. This one was a _special _elevator, off-limits to the rank and file, and it only went from the executive floors to the Entertaining Suite. Needless to say, it was fancy.

He hummed along to the music for this short little trip. Taishakuten was benevolent enough to insist on regular tunes and not Muzak, and while it was mostly classical, every so often a current song snuck through. But right now it was Mozart, and that was just fine with Bishamonten.

He stepped out of the premium elevator and strolled over to the double doors that led to the suite. They too had little brass crowns on them, because Taishakuten loved having a theme. The suite revealed contained designer furniture, an even better view of the city than in Taishakuten's office, and the CEO himself, holding a glass of wine and smiling ever so slightly.

"Reginald. Why am I not surprised that you're the first one here?" he asked rhetorically as Bishamonten crossed over to him. "Cabernet?" he offered, waving a languid hand to one of the end tables and the tray set upon it.

Bishamonten poured himself a glass and murmured, "She must be meeting us here, yes?"

"Yes," Taishakuten nodded, and then explained, "She worked today and her shift ended only a little bit ago. She'll be here shortly. To change the subject, has Victor shown you his research paper on the Mayan city of Palenque? It's fascinating."

"No sir," Bishamonten replied shortly, marveling as ever that Taishakuten liked Kujaku and his oddities. He'd rather expected that the silver-haired man would come down on the secretary like a ton of un-amused bricks, but no. Then again, Taishakuten hardly had to deal with him if he didn't want to.

"You know Reginald, the Maya had the right idea what to do with captives," Taishakuten smiled, and Bishamonten could tell where this was going. "They sacrificed them to their gods, isn't that smart? That way they didn't have to worry about any rebelliousness, and they kept the world going at the same time. Or so they thought," he amended.

Bishamonten muttered something like "Genius, sir" and wondered, as usual, if Taishakuten was secretly a sociopath. It would make an awful lot of sense, as he seemed to have no concept of other people's feelings, except to laugh at their pain. But then again, he was now dating someone, so perhaps he was merely a very callous man who showed a different side of himself to only one person.

Taishakuten opened his mouth to elaborate on ritual torture, but the opening of the door cut him off and he let it go, instead saying, "And here's Aaron. Is Xavier with you?"

"Xavier's still in his office," Zouchouten replied, going for the Cabernet. "His wife called him just as he was standing up to go. So it'll be awhile, I think, because he was smiling his 'infatuated bozo' smile and fiddling with his earrings."

When Koumokuten smiled the "infatuated bozo" smile, it was bad. When he did it while fiddling with his earrings, it was worse, because that was a sign that he was so distracted he forgot everybody else. And if he did all that while leaning back in his chair with his feet on the desk, you knew he was in off in a magical land of fire and stupid terms of endearment, and probably sugarplum fairies getting electrocuted by bug lamps.

So Bishamonten figured they'd have to wait for at least five more minutes for the fugue of spousal affection to pass, and Koumokuten to realize that his presence was required. But he was proven wrong a mere sixty-five seconds later as Koumokuten strolled on in, beaming.

"Sir," he said, pouring himself some alcohol, "we're all so excited to meet your Dr. Prince. Right guys?"

"Yes," Zouchouten assented truthfully, and Bishamonten agreed. After all, this was a novelty, and for Taishakuten to take her up to the Entertaining Suite for a private meet-and-greet indicated that this was no mere fling. Perhaps they'd be meeting the woman who would someday be Mrs. Taishakuten, who knew?

"Shashi is excited to meet all of you too," Taishakuten replied in a purr, running a hand through his hair as the door opened behind his minions' backs. "I haven't told her much about you… in fact, only that I have three Senior VPs more loyal to me than anyone else."

Then he smiled, "And here she is now."

Bishamonten looked… and dropped his wine glass in shock. It shattered on the floor, splashing vintage Cabernet onto his new pants and Taishakuten's favorite loafers (and pants too) as the CEO snapped, "Hey!"

Bishamonten didn't even register it. He was staring at Shashi Prince, the exact same Shashi he'd once loved. She stared back, clearly equally shocked, as Zouchouten and Koumokuten exchanged puzzled glances.

As Bishamonten's mouth hung open and Taishakuten trembled with rage, Zouchouten extended his hand, trying to smooth this inexplicable tension over with a smile and a polite, "Hello. You must be Dr. Prince. I'm Aaron Zou–"

"Reginald."

It was a stunned, harsh whisper, and Zouchouten frowned, his hand still out as he turned to Bishamonten.

"Do you know her?" he asked redundantly, feeling rather stupid for doing so.

"Yes…" Bishamonten managed to say, the fact that there were other people in the room suddenly making itself known again. "Yes, we're – we used to date."

She looked almost terrified, and he, for what reason he didn't know, slipped into "charming businessman" mode. "It's so nice to see you again, Shashi," he said pleasantly. "It's been years."

In reality, it was wrenching and sudden and so painful he wanted to run screaming from the room, but he wasn't about to let anyone know that. He turned to Taishakuten apologetically and sighed, "Sir, I'm so sorry. I was just so surprised to see an old friend, that's all."

Koumokuten, whose head had been turning from Shashi to Bishamonten to Shashi to Bishamonten again, now appraised Bishamonten's "old friend." "Huh. So it's a small world after all," he said, almost sarcastically. "Funny how that works."

Shashi seemed to collect herself, and replied, "Yes, yes indeed, Mr…?"

"Koumokuten. Xavier Koumokuten," the Marketing VP smiled. "This is Aaron Zouchouten with his hand held out like a moron."

As Zouchouten quickly let his hand drop, glaring at his friend, Koumokuten brown-nosed for the boss's woman. "That's a lovely pantsuit, Dr. Prince," he continued, polite and friendly as could be. "I must say that lilac is your color –"

She glared at the hand he'd thrust out and sniffed, "Black is not yours."

As Koumokuten turned an insulted red, Zouchouten tried damage control with a cautious, "From what Mr. Taishakuten has told me, you're a doctor. That's very impressive."

"Maybe to someone like you," she snapped. "You seem to be the type of person who gets by on his brawn, not his brains. I wouldn't be surprised if you'd managed to get yourself fired from prior positions."

Zouchouten turned red as well, and Bishamonten cringed. Due to being on the losing side of a power play years ago, the big man had indeed found himself with a pink slip. He'd landed on his feet and gotten another, higher-paying position somewhere else, but still.

_Still the same Shashi who once made a waiter cry when he spilled wine on her dress. And bitched out Cousin Shirley over what color Hitler's eyes were._

He chanced a look over at Taishakuten, whose mouth was open and whose own eyes were giving him an undecipherable look. He _really _wished he knew what the CEO was thinking. Was it "Reginald, you utter bastard, you banged my girlfriend years ago! Now we have to have an honor duel that I'll win"? Or was it "Reginald, you utter moron, why did you let this bad-tempered goddess leave you?"

In reality, it was "All right… this explains a couple of things, really." Taishakuten shrugged very slightly and closed his mouth, mentally adding, _Oh well, mine now._

As Bishamonten was wondering and Taishakuten was thinking, Shashi was studying the head of Expansion. His hair was styled a little differently than it had been years ago; he still had the high ponytail but he'd added strands over his ears. But yes, just like before, he wore a tailored suit and power tie, and the years had been incredibly kind to him.

He studied her back, impressed. Her hair was longer now, but she'd kept the distinctive two-length bangs. And she certainly hadn't put on weight and let herself go like he'd thought she might have. And she still liked red lipstick, and expensive clothes, and big drop earrings.

"Dr. Prince," Koumokuten said, a dangerous tone in his voice, "you seem tense. There's no need to take it out on us, you know. We didn't do anything to you, so don't –"

"Xavier," Taishakuten murmured, "do try to be more polite. This is my girlfriend, after all."

Koumokuten and Zouchouten looked like they were about to protest that Shashi was being much ruder than they were, but let it go. Zouchouten drank some more wine, and Koumokuten contented himself with imaging a big red target on Shashi's forehead as she traipsed through a war zone.

"Well, Shashi," Bishamonten began, in an attempt to make this less antagonistic, "how long have you known Taishakuten?"

"I've known Arthur for about six months," she replied, absentmindedly accepting the glass of wine Taishakuten handed her, and unaware of how odd it was that she was referring to him by his first name. "We met at a company dinner. He walked over and introduced himself, and we hit it off pretty quickly."

"Indeed," Taishakuten assented. "Now, if the four of you will excuse me, I have to call someone to clean up this mess Reginald had created. I'll be right back." With that, he walked into a corner and pulled out his phone.

In the awkward silence that fell then, the soft music on the sound system was the only thing heard: "I heard that you're settled down, that you found a girl, and –"

Shashi took her cue from the music and observed, "You're married now, I see," to Bishamonten, as Zouchouten and Koumokuten decided they'd just fade into the background, as they were being ignored anyway.

"I am," Bishamonten informed her, acutely aware of the wedding band on his finger. "To a fantastic woman named Kisshouten, who I love very much." He considered adding, "Who didn't run away from me and never call again," but bringing up his issues in front of the world wasn't something he wanted to do.

"Reginald and Kisshouten are in the process of adopting a baby girl," Taishakuten informed his girlfriend, coming back quickly. He'd apparently decided that punishment for the shattered glass could wait, and was firmly in his "gracious host" guise.

"Good for you," Shashi murmured. "So many children need good homes and never get them. I'm sure you'll be a doting, responsible father, Reginald."

"I should think so, yes," he replied rather stiffly. This sort of thing was never covered in business classes, and he had conflicting urges here. One was to be cuttingly condescending in payback, the other was to just let it go, because clearly it wasn't important anymore.

After all, he had Kisshouten now. And Shashi had Taishakuten, and nobody wanted to risk annoying Taishakuten, who seemed a bit protective of her. Although obviously, that woman was more than capable of protecting herself.

So Bishamonten went with letting it go, and changed the subject with a question of, "Where is 'Prince' from? Were you married, then divorced or widowed?"

"Oh no," she replied airily, "I just didn't want to be known as Dr. Shashi Lipschnitzski. You remember, I hated that name with a burning passion. I had it changed and picked 'Prince' because it just _sounds _classy, doesn't it?"

"More so than 'Lipschnitzski', yes," he nodded.

He did indeed remember her laments about her last name, which by the end had fueled fantasies of her changing it to "Bishamonten" through the age-old method of matrimony. Leaving such over-and-done-with things aside, "Prince" did rather suit her.

"I think 'Prince' is much more fitting," Taishakuten agreed, as in the background a peon entered to clean up the shattered glass and wine, which everybody had stepped away from. Alas, Taishakuten's pants and shoes were still ruined, and Bishamonten was pretty sure he'd be paying for not one but multiple pairs in apology.

"So Dr. Prince," Zouchouten tried, making one last effort, "Taishakuten says you have a son. What's his name?"

"His name is Tenou," she said in a near bark, "and why don't you and Xavier go off and talk amongst yourselves."

She was just as conflicted here as Bishamonten, and the superfluous duo of lesser executives (because they just _had_ to be) were getting on her last nerve. One might have thought she'd be grateful for their presence, if only for distraction, but no. No, Shashi got annoyed when she was worried, and wanted nothing more than to order, "Go far away, and you, Elephant Man, get rid of those stupid sideburns."

Zouchouten looked to Taishakuten, hoping to be defended, but alas, Taishakuten seemed to be entertained by Shashi's bitchiness. His carefree answer of "Do so, Aaron, be a good minion" clinched that conclusion. His nasty grin didn't hurt either.

So Zouchouten and Koumokuten took a few steps to the right, where they glared at Shashi and muttered under their breaths. Shashi herself returned her attention to Taishakuten, and engaged in something that tended to endear anyone to him (for a while at least): ego-stroking.

"I was just so impressed by Arthur's story of how he took over this company," she said to Bishamonten, who somehow wasn't surprised by this. "And he's turned it into a powerhouse! From what I've heard it was nothing special when he became CEO."

"That's true," Bishamonten agreed. "Taishakuten is the reason we're all doing so well."

Good, this was a safe topic, they each thought. Business chatter tended to rarely involve personal lives, and then only in passing. So for forty-five minutes, they talked about the company, how fantastic Taishakuten was, his plans for expansion, how fantastic Taishakuten was, and stock options. And then how fantastic Taishakuten was, for the third time.

Eventually that paragon of awesomeness decided, "Well, it's nearly eight. No doubt you're all eager to return to your families, or in Aaron's case quiet house. You are dismissed."

"So nice seeing you again, Reginald," Shashi smiled, then kissed Taishakuten's cheek.

The CEO smiled and accepted this as his due, and was it just Bishamonten, or was he smirking like he'd won something? As he bade Shashi a nice evening and a safe drive home, he seemed smug.

Bishamonten watched her leave, and wondered why he felt cheated. Well, it didn't matter anyway. This was certainly a surprise, but it would be appropriately dealt with and hopefully not be a big issue in the future.

Right now, though, he just _knew_ he'd have the "Shashi In Heels And Nothing Else" dream tonight, as the damn thing popped up every now and again anyway. It had even popped up at three in the morning on his wedding night, but luckily Kisshouten was a great distraction.

As he apologized once more for his affront of ruining Taishakuten's outfit, he decided that he'd simply ignore the whole ex-lover aspect, and act as if Shashi was merely an old friend he'd lost touch with due to diverging paths in life. It was the most sensible thing to do.

He left the Entertaining Suite trailed by Koumokuten and Zouchouten, got his things, wished them a good night, and left without noticing the odd looks they were giving him. The other two popped into their offices, grabbed their coats, and met up out in the hallway.

"Okay," Koumokuten began, "that sucked major dick. I didn't expect Taishakuten to date Mother Theresa, but I'd thought she'd be nicer than that witch. But she's as bad as he is! What are your thoughts, Aaron?"

"She's an old girlfriend of Reginald's," Zouchouten answered, very surprised. "And judging by the way he was so shocked to see her, they did not part on amicable terms."

"No kidding," Koumokuten agreed, as they strolled down the deserted hallway. "He was just _so _surprised to see an 'old friend'," he made air quotes around the words, "that he lost his grip on his glass. And did you see his face? It was all pale and he looked almost distraught."

"I have to wonder what happened," Zouchouten said honestly. "They had to have broken up at least thirteen years ago, before he met Kisshouten, but it clearly still bothers him now. That's a long time, Xavier."

"I wanna grill him for info," Koumokuten admitted as he pressed the button for the elevator. "I'm curious, and I'm also curious why he liked her. Hey, maybe that's it… he got tired of her bitching at him when he was trying to be nice."

The other man considered, and then responded with, "I don't think so. I mean, Reginald's not exactly a sunshine-and-butterflies, Kumbaya, steward of humanity either. I wonder if she cheated on him, or if they had a fight over something stupid."

"That's possible," Koumokuten allowed. "Remember the fight I had with Melissa over Tamara's crayons?"

That particular confrontation had centered over whether or not Tamara deserved the mega-giant box of designer colors, or the merely big box of normal colors. Koumokuten had insisted the smaller box was fine, his wife had insisted that their daughter needed the other one. She had won, and Tamara had received not one but _two _giant boxes of art supplies… which she'd used for about a week and never touched again. Oh well.

"Yes, I do remember," Zouchouten sighed. "That was the week you hit that golf ball into the clubhouse at the country club. You were, not to make a big deal out it, extremely aggressive that day."

"Right," Koumokuten nodded, stepping into the elevator as his friend followed him. "Like I said, something stupid gets blown out of proportion and you have a screaming row. So maybe that's what did it, and she, I dunno, burned his favorite boxers or something and he got fed up and left her."

"We don't know that they ever slept together," Zouchouten pointed out as he pressed the "Lobby" button. "But they were obviously very close at one point for him to react like he did."

"There was sex," Koumokuten said confidently. "There had to have been. You don't get that close to somebody and never bang them until you're married. Unless you're one of those religious freaks," he snorted, like chastity was stupid and not, in fact, rather wise in this day and age.

Zouchouten let that one go, and went back to, "So Shashi's dating Taishakuten now. Do you think that'll make it awkward for Reginald? I mean, they are pretty close. Although of course he's married to Kisshouten, so maybe I'm needlessly worried," he tried to reassure himself as he watched the numbers for the floors flash by.

"Maybe," Koumokuten shrugged, "maybe not. But c'mon Aaron, he's not gonna divorce Kisshouten and chase after somebody he was so shocked to see after they had a bad breakup. Don't be stupid."

"I'm not stupid," Zouchouten muttered in a resigned rumble. "I just saw the way his eyes followed her as she left."

.

Bishamonten locked his back door behind him, still a bit perturbed. It had now occurred to him to wonder if Shashi would share intimate details with her new man, who would probably smirk and say, "Hold on dear, let me get my palm pilot so I can take notes. Would you repeat the bit about the caramel sauce?"

He'd never live it down, and Taishakuten would surely punish him for things that had happened long before the CEO met Shashi. That was just how Taishakuten thought: if it was his, it had always been his and it always would be, and woe betide anyone who tried to take it.

Bishamonten tried not to dwell on if his boss would soon be having a little "chat" with him or not, which would entail the scary voice and the steepled fingers. The steepled fingers meant you were in for a verbal pummeling, all of it said calmly. Uh-oh.

Well, he'd just tell Taishakuten what he'd already told himself: it was a non-issue now. Taishakuten was intelligent, and eventually he'd stop using the scary voice and agree, "All right Reginald, I can accept that if you never make eyes at my girlfriend again."

"Of course, sir," Bishamonten would hasten to assure him. "My eyes will be completely platonic, just like the rest of me has been for nearly twenty years. And did I mention that I think Aaron's slacking off on the new touch-screen prototype? We should have a talk with him about that."

Distraction would work wonders, just like it always did. He'd metaphorically use Zouchouten or maybe Koumokuten as a meatshield, and that would be the end of that. Taishakuten would of course be on the alert for romantic gestures, but there wouldn't be any of those, ha.

"Reginald?" Kisshouten's voice called from the kitchen. "Hello!"

"Hello lotus," he smiled, entering that room. "How was your day? You did get the text I sent you around lunchtime, right?"

"I did," she smiled, and then gave him a quick kiss. "That was sweet of you. And how was your meeting with Taishakuten's girlfriend? Is she nice, or is she a female version of that man?"

Kisshouten didn't like Taishakuten at all. Oh, she never said anything like, "He's a conniving monster and I want you to find another boss, Reginald," but Bishamonten was aware that she wasn't a fan of the CEO like he was. She smiled at him and made conversation, but her husband had once seen a sketch of Taishakuten's head on a pike when he was looking through her things.

But he wasn't thinking about that now. Instead, he was a bit surprised that his instinct was to tell his wife, "Oh, she seems nice, I don't really know her that well." Why was this? Perhaps he thought she might be suspicious too?

He went with the honesty route, because that was the sensible thing to do: "Funny thing, lotus… I used to know her. I used to date her, actually. Back in Philadelphia."

Kisshouten's eyes widened in innocent surprise as she asked, "Did you? What a coincidence." She thought for a moment, and then ventured, "She wouldn't, by any chance, be the Shashi Lipschnitzski you used to get sad talking about, would she?"

It was Bishamonten's turn to be surprised. He'd only mentioned Shashi ten years ago, and for Kisshouten to remember that now must mean that it had made an impression on her. Thankfully he'd never brought up the whole wanting to propose and Shashi running away bit.

"Why yes," he replied, a bit cautiously. "Shashi Prince, now. Isn't it odd how time heals all wounds?" he added quickly, not wanting her to get the wrong idea.

Kisshouten gave him a serious look and quietly said, "I suppose you slept with her."

_Oh, yes. All the time, multiple ways, and with awe-inspiring mutual climaxes, lotus. _

But saying that was really a bad move, and Bishamonten was no fool. So he shrugged and replied, matter-of-factly, "Well, yes, but that was almost two decades ago, Kisshouten. In the past and irrelevant today."

So what if he had the heels dream more often than he'd like to admit? He'd once dreamed of his kindergarten teacher wearing only a net body stocking, years after he'd graduated high school. It was just that Y chromosome at work.

Kisshouten smiled and told him, "Well, at least we know she's nice enough then, if you used to like her that much. Changing the subject, we got a message from Agnes that has me a little worried."

Agnes was their adoption case manager, a plain and rather colorless woman who nevertheless had been very helpful. Unease growing in his mind, Bishamonten crossed to the answering machine and pressed "play", suddenly paranoid that Charlotte had contracted whooping cough or another potentially fatal disease.

The message was brief and businesslike: "Mr. and Ms. Bishamonten? This is Agnes Gornicki from Little Angels Adoption Agency, you of course remember me. I'd like to meet with the two of you as soon as possible, please. My office number is 651-123-0987, extension 4. Thank you and have a nice day."

"We'll call her first thing in the morning," he decided, relieved that there had been no mention of illnesses. "It's probably nothing bad. I hope," he muttered, still uneasy but trying to reassure both of them.

"You don't suppose there's a problem with the paperwork?" Kisshouten asked, not very reassured. "I mean, we're almost all set to get her. Something must be wrong, Reginald. Why else would she call?"

Bishamonten agreed with that point, but insisted that "I'm sure it's fine, Kisshouten. I mean, really, things come up and we'll just work through whatever it is. Her birth mother made it clear she didn't want the poor child, so it's probably something we missed in the paperwork, like you said."

Charlotte's mother had been a prostitute, one who'd already had three other unplanned children, each from different dads. She was fervently Christian despite her profession, and as such had refused to consider abortion, even though that meant she'd had to stop making money for a number of months.

Kisshouten thought the woman was a fool and terrible human being, but at least this way she and Bishamonten could adopt a child. Of course Charlotte would have no contact with her biological mother, because Christian Hooker had told the agency, "I don't want her. Take her off my hands."

Which was perfectly fine with Bishamonten and Kisshouten, because such a woman wasn't someone they wanted their daughter around anyway. He sometimes amused himself by imagining how he'd break the news of what her biological mom had been to Charlotte.

"Well sweetheart," he'd smile, as she sat on his knee and gazed up at him worshipfully, "the woman who gave birth to you was a promiscuous idiot who didn't have the sense to use contraception, and no doubt would have drunk your allowance away."

"What's contraception?" she'd ask him, big green eyes wide. "Daddy, what's that?"

"It's a method of not conceiving a child," he'd tell her, because he wasn't going to beat around the bush and mention a fictional bird that dropped infants down their parents' chimneys. "Anyway sweetie, she was a fool. But your _real _mother isn't a fool, is she?"

"No way!" she'd agree, shaking her head fervently. "Mommy's smart, and pretty, and awesome! And Daddy, you're smart, and handsome, and also awesome! I'm so glad you're my parents. Can I give you another hug?"

"Why yes you can, Charlotte," he'd grin. "Go right ahead."

Ah yes, that would be how it would go. She'd never want to meet her birth mom, why would she? She'd never get one of those "Discovering My Roots" manias, and never search for her half-siblings, or grandparents, or biological father, who could have been almost anyone. Nope, she'd be content with her wonderful life and wonderful parents.

So Bishamonten and Kisshouten finished their day, went to bed, and woke up the next morning in a calmer frame of mind. Sleep tended to take the edge off anxiety, and while they were both still a little worried each was hoping they were overreacting.

When they contacted Agnes, though, she wouldn't tell them anything over the phone, "But if you can meet with me at, say, four this afternoon, we'll get everything straightened out."

That sounded very reassuring. "Of course," Bishamonten smiled while Kisshouten nodded as well, having heard what Agnes had said through that wonderful "speaker" function. "We'll be there early, even."

And so he strolled into work still slightly tense, but able to handle it. Yasha helped, being the best executive assistant in the company. That was his unofficial title: "Best Executive Assistant." People often whispered, "He could be like the Senior VPs. No, better! He's a god at business."

But Yasha seemed content to stay an assistant, and never gunned for another position. This was absolutely fine with Bishamonten, because his assistant prior to Yasha, the one who'd set his desk on fire, had been power-hungry to the extreme.

He supposed that was the way the universe worked: excellent Yasha, eccentric Kujaku. If he'd had both a completely driven assistant _and _secretary, the universe would have had to take something else away from him to make it fair. And truly, Kujaku wasn't a _bad_ secretary, just an odd one.

"Hey Reginald," the odd secretary smiled when Bishamonten was getting ready to leave work early, "how did that meeting with Artie's new squeeze go? You never mentioned it at all. Ooh, I know," he grinned, "it was terrible! She's a 400-pound school principal with a tattoo that says 'Praise The Devil', and she hypnotized him into –"

"That is just ludicrous," Bishamonten sighed, glaring at him. "No, she's a lovely woman with a very nice figure who met him at a company dinner that I missed."

And then, because he was on an honesty kick, he added, "I used to know her very well. Her name's Shashi."

"Shashi, huh?" Kujaku asked, smiling a bit. "Pretty name. I'd grill you for details, but I see that you're in a hurry so I'll just ask Ellen, Aaron's probably told her all about her. Or Nina, Nina's probably met her too."

"Good idea," Bishamonten said over his shoulder, halfway out the door. "Have a good day, Victor."

As he drove to the adoption agency (Kisshouten was meeting him there) he went back to worrying that something was wrong, putting Shashi out of his head with ease. What if Charlotte's mother _did _want her back? What if Charlotte's father had found out he had a child and demanded custody?

What if Bishamonten stopped worrying and focused on driving, seeing as he couldn't do anything about it yet anyway?

_All right, I'll focus on driving. I'll find out what's going on soon enough. And it'll be fine, _he insisted. _It's nothing to worry about and everything will work out perfectly. And I see a cop car over there, so I'm slowing down._

When he walked into the reception area, he found Kisshouten already there and chewing her lip. While they waited ten minutes, he itemized the décor and magazines to keep from fiddling with a strand of his hair. And when Agnes finally showed up, both Kisshouten and Bishamonten jumped at her greeting.

"Come with me back to my office," she said solemnly, which wasn't reassuring in the least. Then again, she was the kind of person who could have said, "You've won a trip to Hawai'i, all expenses paid," in a solemn tone, so maybe things would turn out all right. Positive thinking, that was the key.

"Well, Mr. and Mrs. Bishamonten," she began as they all settled into their respective chairs, "thank you for coming. I have good news and bad news. Which would you like first?"

"The good news," Bishamonten said firmly, just as Kisshouten replied, "The bad news."

"I'll just tell it to you straight," Agnes muttered, then took a deep breath and informed them, "Charlotte's mother has requested full custody of her daughter. She's turning her life around and realized that she wants that child."

Kisshouten and Bishamonten's mouths dropped open in perfect unison, and they stared at her in horror. Christian Hooker was no longer Christian Hooker, and that made it okay for her to demand the child she'd freely given up, and take her away from a couple who'd be better parents anyway?

"This of course doesn't mean that Belinda will be given immediate and full custody of Charlotte," Agnes continued as they kept right on staring in horror, "but it does mean that the baby is no longer available. She will be placed in foster care until we've seen that Belinda is capable of providing for her, and –"

"You can't _do _that," Bishamonten protested desperately, clenching a white-knuckled grip onto the chair. "We paid the adoption fee, we waded through a sea of paperwork, we –"

"I'm sorry Mr. Bishamonten," Agnes sighed, "but the mother has the right to change her mind, and she has. But there are hundreds of thousands of other children, and more are being born every day," she said almost brightly, like one kid was just the same as any other.

"We _wanted _Charlotte," Kisshouten snapped, which she hardly ever did. "She recognizes us! She likes us, and we're so fond of her already that –"

"You can't _have _Charlotte," Agnes said bluntly, making both Bishamonten and Kisshouten want to jump her and beat her head against the desk for being so uncaring. "God works in mysterious ways," she continued piously, "and He wants Charlotte to be with her mother." They could hear the capital "H" in her tone.

Kisshouten considered saying that she wasn't so sure of that one, but Bishamonten was already growling, "Agnes, I can see that we're not going to change your agency's mind. So we will never darken your door again, because your handling of this situation is sub-par. I understand the logic of your position, but you could be a little more empathetic about it.

"And I want that fee back," he barked as he stood up. "There's no sense us paying you if we're not able to –"

"The fee in nonrefundable," Agnes said stiffly, folding her hands on the desk. "I'm sorry." Her almost bored tone made it clear that she really wasn't, and Kisshouten stood up as well.

"That was never spelled out," she hissed, drawing herself up to her full height. "We read that paperwork very carefully, and that wasn't on it! We have records, we can prove that you–"

"We reserve the right to change our policies," Agnes interrupted, frostier than a January morning. "And we have, just two days ago. Our lawyer has assured us that it was perfectly legal. Now, if you take us to court, we can –"

"We _will_ be taking you to court," Kisshouten vowed, but Bishamonten snapped, "No. It wasn't that much money compared to what we earn, and I want nothing more to do with these people. Agnes, I hope you get hit by a bus. Or better yet, a downed helicopter."

And with that, he grabbed Kisshouten's hand and yanked her out of the office, furious and considering hiring a helicopter for just that threat. One with guided missiles, dammit, forget the downed part. And a pilot who'd make damn sure his or her target didn't escape, and would follow the bitch to the ends of the earth!

"Reginald," Kisshouten snarled as he dragged her down the hallway, "we have every right to sue these people for that change of policy! It's the principle of the thing, and – let go! You're hurting me!"

He loosened his grip but kept right on draggin', and snarled back, "If I have to see these bastards in court, I will lose it completely, Kisshouten. Unless you want me arrested for assault, _let it go_. This is hard enough as it is!"

"You're letting your anger get in the way of logic," she pleaded, as he slammed the door to the parking lot open. "I'm upset too. Look at me, I'm crying! But that was bordering on illegal for them to leave that off the paperwork, and then change that policy and expect us to follow it!"

"Well maybe if you hadn't waffled over Charlotte or Suzanne," Bishamonten sniped, "we could have adopted her by now and it wouldn't have mattered." It was a clear case of misdirected aggression, and Kisshouten knew that very well.

At the same time…

"Don't make this out to be my fault," she told him in a vehement whisper, wiping her eyes. "I didn't make that woman have a change of heart at the last minute, or decide that we can't adopt Charlotte! Don't you turn on me now."

Bishamonten muttered something about how it was still true, turned away and stomped over to his car, and snapped over his shoulder, "I'll see you at home. I need some time to cool down before I do something stupid and actually try to find an aviation hitman."

And leaving Kisshouten blinking in confusion, he wrenched his car door open, threw himself into the seat, and slammed the door shut.

.

As Bishamonten was turning up angry rock music in his Cadillac, Dr. Shashi Prince was closing an exam room door, having just finished meeting with her last patient of the day. Being an ob-gyn often meant dealing with extremely embarrassed people, and this last one had been brick red through the entire thing, poor woman.

Shashi had decided on gynecology over being a physician with a good old-fashioned coin toss. Having been through giving birth, and pelvic examinations, and all the other oh-so-fun things women had to endure, she'd realized that a competent, helpful, _female_ ob-gyn could really rake in the cash. After all… there would always be women who only felt comfortable exposed in front of female doctors.

Unless of course there was a worldwide nuclear holocaust, in which case there would always be cockroaches and little else, but being a physician wouldn't make a difference by that point.

She had wanted to be a doctor since she was a little girl, but not out of some desire to help the world. Oh, that was all well and good, but she'd fixed on the money doctors made. And she was making a lot of it, so much that she sometimes wanted to rent a pool, fill it with dollar bills, and frolic around like Scrooge McDuck.

"Shashi?" a maternal voice said from behind her as she stuck a file back in its place. "How did your meeting yesterday go?"

"Fine, Martha," she answered, turning to face her boss. "It was just fine, thanks. Except that I think Arthur has bad taste in certain underlings," she muttered under her breath.

Dr. Martha Gilbertson was the clinic director, a roly-poly, grandmotherly type with silver hair and winged glasses. She liked Shashi, and while Shashi coveted her job she liked her back. After all, she'd been the one to hire the younger woman.

Shashi had moved to the city of Zenmi for the position, just a year ago. She'd felt a bit bad about uprooting her son, but hey… it was a job with a very nice paycheck, and New York was too much for poor Tenou, she'd thought. In reality Tenou had quite liked New York, but hadn't said anything in protest except "All my friends are here."

And she was climbing the ladder of the "Gilbertson Women's Health" clinic, oh yes she was. She worked hard and maneuvered, and one day, one fine day she'd take Dr. Gilbertson's position as director and make even more money, and have even more power! She'd of course smile and be gracious to all the losers who hadn't been chosen as successor, but she'd be the queen.

"Bad taste in underlings?" the current dowager asked, pushing her glasses up her nose. "Oh dear. Are they incompetent or just rude? So many businesspeople have no sense of other people's feelings," she sighed.

"Well," Shashi amended, "only two of them are rude, and probably not incompetent because Arthur doesn't suffer fools. The third one is – actually Martha," she confessed, because she had to tell _someone_, "I used to date the third one a long time ago."

"Fancy that!" Dr. Gilbertson trilled. "Isn't it funny how we tend to run into people we used to know? Why, I once ran into one of my old subs from my college days at the hardware store, and we went to college in San Diego."

"Oh. Were they a teacher's aide, then?" Shashi asked, because her boss had said "sub", which must have meant "substitute teacher".

"Oh no dear," Dr. Gilbertson murmured, a secretive smile on her face. "He was a football player. And by 'sub', dear, I meant 'submissive'," she said gaily, having figured out what Shashi was thinking.

Shashi's jaw practically hit the floor at this piece of information. Dr. Gilbertson didn't look like a dominatrix! She looked like Mrs. Claus, and patted nurses on the head when they were having a hard day, and wore sensible shoes and stockings, for God's sake. It just went to show… it's always the nice ones that you never suspect.

"Anyway dear," the domina granny went on, "was he happy to see you? Were you happy to see him? Or did you part on bad terms and you weren't pleased to be near him again? Either way, you know I'm here if you need to talk about it."

"We went our separate ways because we both knew we weren't working out," Shashi lied. "It was fine seeing him. But thank you Martha, that's kind of you," she finished, still slightly weirded out at the thought of Martha Gilbertson, Mistress With Birkenstocks.

She had made the choice, halfway through the private little party with Doofus One, Doofus Two, Taishakuten, and Bishamonten, that she would not let that past relationship get in the way of what they both had now. After all, she was dating the CEO! This meant prestige and expensive gifts.

If she was being honest with herself, she was only dating him because she was lonely, he had piles of cash, and she'd felt that Tenou needed a masculine role model besides his Uncle Harold, who she had a rather low opinion of. Harold Kumaraten was her sister Kahra's husband, and while Kahra adored him Shashi found him a bit too brooding and intense for her tastes.

Then again, Taishakuten was very intense too, but he tended not to brood. Instead, he made other people feel bad if he did.

Did she love him? Honestly, no. But she did like him, and thought they complimented each other well. She was impressed by his attitude of conquering all he saw, and felt that she might as well be the woman at his side, until he got tired of her as he probably would.

Or maybe he wouldn't. Maybe they'd like each other so much they'd fall in love, that'd be great. Then she could put all her energy into making him marry her, and be extra sure to have a good prenup just in case things went wrong. If they didn't, she'd be married to one of the most powerful men in the country!

Ha, yes, and then she could have whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted it. And she could lord it over people she disliked, like Doofus One and Doofus Two.

Had Shashi examined her dislike of Zouchouten and Koumokuten, she would have realized that it was pretty irrational, at least in Zouchouten's case. After all, they'd been polite, at least until they'd started the muttering that had probably involved words like "bitch" and "gold-digger". But she didn't examine it, and found herself running through their faults as she drove home from work.

_Xavier is obviously one of those foolish middle-aged men who think they're hip and with it. Wearing all black, no suit jacket, and with those stupid earrings. And that idiotic little soul stripe. It works for teen heartthrobs, moron, not you!_

_And Aaron's facial hair is completely and totally ridiculous. Sideburns are bad enough at fifty-something, but those things are like half a beard on either side of his face! The least he could do is trim them so they don't stick out, but no._

A tiny voice of compassion pointed out, _Now, don't be so judgmental! Why, when you met Reginald you wanted to laugh at his hair too. Well, before you wanted to run your fingers through it and see if it was as silky as it looked._

She shook her head violently at this random and dangerous thought, and went back to bashing on Zouchouten and Koumokuten. That was a nice safe topic.

"And that wannabe hipster tried to suck up!" she said aloud, because she liked the sound of her own voice. She often monologued to the mirror, and in the shower, and in the car like she was doing now. She tried not to do so if Tenou was around, because some of her topics were unsuitable for her child's ears.

She did a Koumokuten impression: " 'That's a lovely pantsuit, Dr. Prince! Lilac's your color! I would have said chartreuse is your color too, because I'm a favor-grubbing loser!' With a face you could use to scare roaches," she snorted.

Yes, people who hadn't been blessed with the attractiveness gene were second-class, she smirked as she waited at a red light. Sure if they were intelligent they weren't useless, but ha ha, Shashi was both smart _and_ gorgeous!

"His wife is probably just as unattractive," she thought aloud as the light turned green. "That or twenty years old, super-pretty, and willing to overlook his myriad bad points for cash. Ew."

Who cared that Shashi was dating Taishakuten mostly for the perks? Taishakuten was damn sexy.

"Well, I can just talk to Reginald at company functions," she decided. "Reginald's a gentleman, and I was needlessly worried. He didn't yell at me at all. He probably has no idea I wanted to run screaming from the room when I saw him talking with Arthur.

"And I had a very valid reason for leaving him," she told the windshield, frowning now. "So yes I was guiltily happy to see him again, but really, it'll pass.

"And surely it doesn't matter anymore. After all, the man's married, and he's probably forgiven and forgotten, so there's no sense bringing that depressing issue up," she concluded, nodding resolutely. "No reason at all. None whatsoever."

Yup, she was just fine, thanks.

.

.

(AN: Poor Bish and Kissh… no baby. Sniffle. After she painted that unicorn picture too!

But da-da-dadaa: Shashi's back! And lookin' damn good. I snickered when I wrote her interactions with Koumokuten and Zouchouten, because let's be honest: she's a bitch to Zouchouten when he tries to be nice to her in Volume Two.

Anyway, in the next chapter we'll see how she and Bishamonten met, and we'll meet her totally darling son. Plus Kujaku will act serious for once [gasp!].

I love the mental image of Shashi diving into a pool of dollar bills, wearing a bikini and chortling, "Mine, all mine!" Oh Shashi… you selfish, power-hungry little person you! The monologueing is inspired by her spilling all her secrets in Volume Seven, talking to herself while Kujaku listens in the rafters.

You know, where she says she wants to kill Bishamonten and his buddies. …Cut me some slack on the pairing, I can't help who I think go well together! At least I acknowledge that it's canonically dumb, right?)


	4. Memories

_In which there is backstory_

.

.

For the past three days, Kisshouten had been subdued. The loss of Charlotte, in such an abrupt manner, had hit her very hard, which was completely and totally understandable. And to be honest, her husband was making it worse, with his stomping around, swearing under his breath, and refusal to discuss the issue.

"Not now," he'd snarled when she tried to broach the subject. "I can't handle it now. Later, Kisshouten."

She'd thought about reminding him that talking was an outlet, and that one often had to verbalize things to work through them, but backed off instead. Still, it was almost frightening that he was holding something this big inside instead of telling her his feelings.

So she'd talked to her parents instead. Her mother Megan had cried as well, and Tentei had gotten a bit choked up himself. His little girl had lost something precious, and he'd been looking forwards to finally being a grandfather.

"Honey," he'd told her, hugging her around the shoulders, "if you need a sympathetic ear at any time of the day or night, we're here. Tell Reginald our offer holds for him too."

"He's furious," she'd sighed, reaching for another Kleenex. "But I'm sure that when it passes, he'll probably take you up on that offer."

Without Bishamonten to help her deal with this issue, Kisshouten was turning to journaling, her parents, and expressing her feelings through art. After all, emotions were what gave a painting its much of its power, and she was very good at capturing them.

Like many artists, she worked on more than one piece at a time. If she needed a break from painting backgrounds, she could paint someone else's face. If she was having trouble with shading and needed to calm down, she could do some sketching. And if she went cross-eyed from tiny details, she could go back to sweeping strokes on the half-finished background of the first one.

She sighed as she depicted a lamenting woman on the paper before her, having gone with sketching right now. This particular sketch was charcoal, and she probably wouldn't do anything else with it. She'd of course keep it, because she kept everything that turned out well that wasn't for sale.

She'd done a quick and excellent drawing of Agnes falling off a cliff the day of the shock, which she'd been tempted to turn into a painting. She'd then decided that that was just asking for trouble, and that it wasn't all Agnes's fault. She had then produced a caricature of Christian Hooker, even though she had no idea what the ho looked like.

In time, once she healed, she would destroy both sketches because they were so mean and lawsuit-worthy… but for now, they helped. A lot.

.

For the past three days, Bishamonten had been a holy terror at the office. Kujaku, being an intelligent if eccentric man, wisely kept the playing around to a minimum, and then only when Bishamonten wasn't there. After all, his boss looked about ready to tear someone's head off.

Yasha finally asked, "Sir, um… what's wrong? Was it something _I _did? Or did Victor just show you his drawing of you, Aaron, and Xavier as rampaging centaurs?"

"I am not a centaur!" Bishamonten snarled, as Yasha winced and regretted mentioning that. "But no, James, it's not you. Kisshouten and I were denied Charlotte. It had nothing to do with anyone or anything here," he sighed, picking up his coffee.

"I'm so sorry," Yasha said honestly. He liked his boss, even though at times he thought Bishamonten was a bit evil. Still, losing a child was awful, even if the little girl was still alive. He wondered what had brought that about, but decided not to pry.

At a catered business lunch that early afternoon, Zouchouten brought up the subject of "Reginald, if there's anything I can do to help, let me know. That must have been awful, and if you need a shoulder to lean on I'm here."

Bishamonten had told his fellow Senior VPs everything, including the helicopter scenario. Zouchouten had sighed, "Don't do anything dumb," but Koumokuten had suggested, "Helicopters are too messy. Poison her sandwich, or cut the brakes on her car, or pay a druggie to shoot her."

"XAVIER!" Zouchouten had roared in appalled shock, but Bishamonten had added those ideas to his fantasy list of "How Agnes Should Die".

Now he muttered, "I'm working through it, thank you. But I appreciate your support. Pass me the salt, Xavier, and let's talk about something else. Like… Aaron, did I hear you say it's Ellen's birthday tomorrow?"

"Yes," Zouchouten assented, looking a bit embarrassed. "I, er, ordered her flowers to be delivered to the office. White roses and lilies, she likes white. It's completely a platonic gesture of well-wishing," he said desperately, as Koumokuten started to grin.

"I dunno," Koumokuten said as innocently as he could, "red roses might have been better. After all, they symbolize romantic interest, or so I've heard. White just symbolizes… uh…"

"I just said it was a platonic gesture!" Zouchouten snapped, gripping his fork so hard it bent a little.

He insisted on pretending he had no designs on Karura, which made it even funnier. After all, Bishamonten had once seen him doodling a heart with "Ellen K. and Aaron Z." in it, before he'd quickly scribbled it out when he saw Bishamonten looking.

Bishamonten and Koumokuten exchanged amused looks, as Zouchouten speared a tomato in his salad. How indescribably funny that the man ordered his object of affection roses, and loudly protested that it was just a friendly gesture. And expected them to swallow that lie.

Something occurred to Bishamonten then: perhaps _he_ should order _Kisshouten_ some flowers. They'd been tense and he'd snapped at her multiple times in the past few days, and it had always worked before.

So… what kind? Why not roses, since he had them on the brain? Roses were always a winner, and he could have them add some alstramyria, which he knew she liked. Pink roses, maybe, or red. Or a combination.

He didn't make a habit of giving her just red roses, as it always brought up depressing feelings. After all, he'd given Shashi so many red roses it was silly, as she looked good in that color. That had been her thing: a red dress, red lipstick, and red heels for special occasions.

He glared at his water glass and decided to go with pink roses, thank you.

But as he went back into his office after lunch, Shashi kept popping up in his mind, waving and saying, "Think about me! Think about me! Hey Reginald, think about me!"

_Nope, _he stubbornly replied. _I'm going to think about my work, and if I need a break from that I'll think about my lovely __wife__. The one who used to send me sketches when we were dating, and never, __ever__ snaps at my colleagues._

"But Reginald,"Mental Shashi said innocently, "I once sent you naked pictures, remember? Back before we moved in together? Surely you haven't forgotten _that_."

_Um… no. I only got rid of them when things got serious with Kisshouten,_ he admitted, sitting down at his desk with a slight frown on his face. And he'd been nearly giddy as he opened that envelope and encountered such things. Sure he'd seen actual naked Shashi before, but this was private porn! How could any straight man say "no"?

Okay, so maybe he _was_ going to take a little trip down memory lane. But that was fine! Because he could always just put a police barrier across it later, and he wasn't going to get lost on it. He'd just do a quick run-through.

They had met in an unusual way: she'd rear-ended his parked car while he was buying cookies for work (being the newest office drone had _sucked_). One minute he'd been shelling out hard-earned dough for food everyone else hogged, the next a giant crash had prompted the entire bakery to look up.

"AAAH! My baby!" Bishamonten's scream of rage had made the bakery worker wince as two other patrons backed slowly away. "I just bought that thing a month ago!"

He'd slammed the cookie box down, stormed outside, and been ready to pick up the fender and kill the perpetrator with it. Then a woman with a miniskirt and a carefree smile had gotten out of the demon machine that had killed his new Chevy.

"You hit my car!" he'd roared, pointing needlessly. His precious Chevy, which was red and fast, had been damaged by this bitch! Ooh, she was goin' down.

"Sir," she said glibly, "it was just a fender. Now out of my way, I need some donuts."

He stared at this irresponsible, downright dangerous woman, and caught her wrist as she tried to go past him, snapping, "Oh no. No, don't you realize what you just did? I will _sue _you!" he threatened, quite prepared to carry it out. "You smashed into my new car!"

She sighed like _she _was the inconvenienced one, and said, "Sir, I'm very sorry, all right? Now will you let go of my –?"

"How could you hit a parked car that hard?" he snarled as she smoothed a lock of hair out of her face. "You don't parallel park at fifty miles per hour!"

"It was _thirty _miles per hour," she hissed, "and I wasn't parallel parking! I was in a hurry because my rehearsal starts in half an hour and it's my turn to bring breakfast." She cast a guilty eye over the injured vehicle and mumbled, "I, um… I didn't realize I hit it so hard."

"The fender came off," he growled. "The body crumpled. The brake lights –"

"Whoops," she muttered, then flashed him a megawatt smile. "I'm very, very, _very _sorry, sir. Can I buy you a donut in penance?" she offered, like that would make it all better, and wasn't she nice?

Bishamonten stared for a moment, then his eyes narrowed to deadly slits. "I see what you're trying to pull," he snarled, and Shashi's smile faltered. "You're trying to play stupid and buttering me up so I won't ask for your insurance information, aren't you?"

"No!" she protested, like she would never even _think _of doing such a thing. "No, no, of course –"

She took another look at his expression, sighed, and admitted, "Um, yes. Yes, I am."

_Ha, _he thought triumphantly. _I __win__. _

"Well I want that information," he ordered, pulling out a piece of scratch paper and a pen. "And you can forget about that donut, because right now I want to shake you so hard your eyes will cross. I just finished college, and I can't afford another car!"

Shashi now looked a bit panicked as she pleaded, "I'm sorry! I wasn't paying attention –"

"Obviously," he sniffed, clicking the pen. "Now if you don't give me your info I'm going to start yelling at the top of my lungs."

She heaved another sigh, her chest rising and falling, and he couldn't help but notice that it was a _nice _chest. But that didn't matter, his frontal cortex snapped at his baser instincts, because this was the enemy that had killed his car, and soon he'd yell at her, belatedly call the police, and take her to court.

Looking like she'd really rather get back into her own car and drive away, she took out her insurance info and obediently called the police, but probably only because he was standing there glowering and on the alert for an escape attempt. As they waited for a police officer to show up after calling their insurance companies, she ventured, "I truly am sorry."

"So am I," he muttered, then thawed a bit and added, "But thank you for the apology."

"My name's Shashi Lipschnitzski," she said hesitantly, holding out an olive branch. "I'm afraid I've forgotten yours, even though I saw it on the insurance info."

"I'm Reginald Bishamonten," he said a tad grumpily. "So nice to meet you."

The last part was sarcastic, but she smiled like he'd really meant it. Hmm, maybe this woman was one of those insufferably friendly people, and just acted like a dangerous airhead for the fun of it?

For a few minutes they just stood there, staring at the car, until he finally remembered the cookies he'd left sitting by the cash register. With an imperious tone to his voice, he ordered, "Come into the bakery with me, I have to get something. I don't trust you not to drive off when I'm gone."

"That would be stupid and ultimately useless of me," she shot back as she followed him back inside. "You have my name, insurance info, and license number, so if I ran now I'd only make trouble for myself. Give me a little credit here."

Ah, see, she _was _smart. He picked the cookie box back up as the bakery workers gave him curious looks, thanked them curtly, and went back outside, where he waited for about ten minutes before the police showed up, with a tow truck right behind them.

"Don't look too bad," the tow truck driver appraised, hitching the Chevy up as the police left. "But prob'ly smart o'you not t'drive it. Ya never know when somethin' might blow up on ya."

Bishamonten had a sudden mental image of himself starting the car, and then the whole thing exploding like a firework on the Fourth of July. He shook it off and requested, "I don't suppose you'd be able to give me a lift to my work, please? As my car is, in fact, useless right now?"

"No," the driver responded, pleasantly and matter-of-factly. "Not a chance."

Bishamonten started to glare, annoyed at both this stupid man and at himself for not thinking about how he was going to get where he'd been going earlier. Well, he'd had rather a shock, so he forgave himself that oversight.

"Why not? I have no mode of transportation, and I'd compensate you," he said a bit desperately.

"Well," the driver drawled, "seems t'me ya either call a cab, or ya walk, or ya call somebody t'pick ya up. Ain't my job t'getcha where you're s'posed t'be."

"Have you ever tried getting a taxi at this time of day in Philadelphia?" Bishamonten snapped. "Come on, my office is on the way to your lot! I'll pay you handsomely, and I'm so late already I –"

"No passengers. 'Sthe rules, buddy. Sorry," the driver replied, sounding annoyed. "You'd best call that cab now, then, if it takes so damn long. Whinin' t'me ain't gonna change my mind, and it'll jus' be wastin' yer time."

Bishamonten considered pulling the "Don't you know who I am? I'm the son of a famous mogul, you peon!" trick, but he could tell it wouldn't work on this guy. After all, he'd been driving a Chevy, not a Mercedes or Jaguar. Crud.

And then, like the voice of an angel, Shashi volunteered, "I can drive you! It's the least I can do."

Had Bishamonten been a better man, he would have pointed out, "You just met me! For all you know I'll have you drive to a deserted park to rob, murder, or sexually assault you. Don't take chances. I'll call a taxi, thanks." But as it was, he fervently thanked her before she could back out of it.

"Or the lady can drive ya," the tow truck driver agreed. "I'll be callin' ya when yer car's in better shape, shouldn' be too long. Y'all have a nice day, now." And with that, he hopped into his truck and hauled the Chevy away.

"Where do you work?" Shashi asked as she opened the passenger side door, as Bishamonten's hands were full with the cookies. "Just give me directions and I'll have you there in a jiffy."

"Don't speed too blatantly," he sighed, getting in and trying to buckle his seatbelt with a giant box in his lap. "If you get pulled over I'll be even later. But I work downtown, at the Touriten Tower. You know, the one on –"

"On Empire Street. Sure, I know it," she agreed, buckling her own seatbelt and starting the car. "What do you do, Reginald? Are you a businessman? Judging by your tie, I'm guessing yes."

"I am," he told her as she started to drive. "So far I'm just a low-level one, but I hope that I'm on the road to being pretty high up. And what about you? You said you were late for rehearsal and you're not wearing business attire, so are you an actress?"

"I've actually got a degree in health," she told him, switching lanes, "but I was in theater club in high school and tried out for a play at an independent theater on a whim. I'm a very good actress, and I've been told I should be in films, or Broadway. I can sing too."

He smiled a bit and asked, "So you're a singing health professional who went into acting?"

"I suppose you could say that," she agreed. "But I plan to go medical school and be a singing doctor who acts on the side. Or, if I get discovered, I'll be an award-winning actress with a medical background," she said grandly, having figured her life out already.

Bishamonten was a bit jealous of that. His life was full of uncertainty, because he was beginning to think he'd made a bad career choice. He was very good at business, but so far his job consisted of doing menial little tasks that everybody else left for later. He _really _couldn't wait to get promoted.

Had he not gone into business, he would have been an astronaut or something daring like that, because astronauts got to float around in a space station and never, _ever _had to buy over-processed baked goods they never got to eat anyway. Well, his review was coming up, so if he didn't get at least a raise he'd write off college and start studying astronomy.

"I'm playing Audrey in 'Little Shop Of Horrors'," Shashi was informing him as he fantasized about being the first man to set foot on Mars. "The director says I'm excellent at it."

This woman had very healthy self-esteem, he decided. She kept talking about how great she was. Which was okay with him, because he was a fantastic person too and hated when people called him stuck-up. Or narcissistic. Or "an egomaniacal, unfeeling, jerkwad of a man", as had happened a couple times.

"I'm sure you are," he agreed, then smirked, "You certainly were rather convincing as a ditzy, unconcerned bad driver."

Shashi looked over to him to make sure he wasn't about to get mad, noticed the smirk, and laughed. "Usually acting like a stupid woman works, you know. I've gotten out of three parking tickets, five speeding tickets, and running a red light by acting like a ditz.

"It helps to be so pretty," she grinned, tossing her hair. "Men are easy to fool, but I have to act almost pathetic to get female cops to take pity on me. But you… you saw through it."

"I'm good at seeing things under the surface," Bishamonten bragged. "For example, when my Uncle Sean had an affair with his neighbor I was the one who figured it out, and I was only ten. It's a gift of mine."

For fifteen minutes they talked about anything that came to mind, and by the time she pulled up in front of the Touriten Tower, he no longer wanted to shake her so hard she went cross-eyed. In fact, he almost wished the drive had been longer, because she was so interesting.

"Well, thank you again for the ride," he told her, unbuckling his seatbelt as she opened his door for him. "I won't be taking you to court, by the way. But try to pay a little more attention next time, won't you?"

"Of course," she assured him as he got out, those stupid cookies in hand. "Thanks to you, too."

He nodded and turned away, bracing himself for the reprimand he'd surely suffer for being so late. He had called, but his boss was rather unforgiving, the tool.

"Hey…"

He turned back at the hesitant tone of her voice, asking, "Yes?"

"Um, Reginald… do you…" She fished in her purse and pulled out a ticket, saying, "Here. It's for my play. I just thought, in thanks, and if you wanted to, maybe –"

She squared her shoulders and asked bluntly, "Can I see you again?"

He stared for a moment, unsure and extremely late for work already, but at the same time intrigued and flattered. Clearly she liked him, and being liked by a beautiful brunette was always a nice feeling.

_Well, _he decided, _what's the harm in watching a play? Or going out for coffee? She's a very attractive woman…_

So he smiled and accepted the ticket with a pleasant, "I'd like that."

He went to her play, enjoyed it, and offered to take her to dinner. She accepted, they had fun, and one dinner grew to two, three, four dinners, each one more enjoyable than the last. And it went from goodnight kisses, to regular kisses, then passionate, "Let's get it _on_" face-sucking, and logically progressed from there.

They'd moved in together, and just when he'd been considering proposing, he'd come home one day a week after Christmas to find a house with none of her clothes or effects, and a terse "We're breaking up" message on the answering machine. For a moment he had stood there, staring at the thing, his jaw slack. Finally he'd snapped out of it and desperately tried to find her, to no avail.

"Mr. Bishamonten? Sir, Victor paged you twice," Yasha's voice broke into his thoughts. "You have a call on line one."

Bishamonten blinked, coming back to his office where Yasha was giving him a slightly odd look. Damn it all, stupid memory lane. It was so easy to get lost on it and never even register the demands and sounds of the real, present world.

"Thank you, James," he said, in as casual a tone as he could muster. "Do go and get me more coffee, won't you?" As Yasha obeyed, a rather puzzled look on his face because Bishamonten already had coffee, the VP of Expansion picked up line one.

"This is Reginald Bishamonten," he introduced himself, hoping this call was from those potential allies in Brazil. But no…

"Reginald, I do not like to be kept waiting," Taishakuten huffed, sounding quite annoyed. "You're usually so good about answering immediately, and Victor assured me you're in your office. Care to enlighten me as to why you thought it all right to ignore my call?"

"I was distracted by a proposal, sir," Bishamonten lied, expertly and glibly. "I'm very sorry, and I'll make sure to pay more attention to the phone from here on out." The self-improvement card was so easy to play, and it usually worked very well. Hopefully Taishakuten would buy it.

He bought it. "Thank you, Reginald. Now, I have a bit of a favor to ask of you," he murmured, making this sound like a fabulous boon and not something that took effort on Bishamonten's part.

"If I can do it, I will," Bishamonten hastened to assure him.

Some people might have seen this as lackey-ism, or at the very least Taishakuten taking advantage of someone else, but not Bishamonten. No, this was yet another avenue to demonstrating just how loyal and useful he was.

"You see, Reginald," the object of such slavish devotion sighed, "I've just discovered that I'll need to be here well into the night. I promised Shashi I'd give her a small gift this evening, and I don't want her to be disappointed. Will you deliver it for me, perhaps around four-thirty? You may go home after that."

An outside observer might have pointed out the lack of the magic word, the idiocy of assuming gifts meant just as much if they were delivered by a messenger, and the condescending tone of the last sentence. That observer might have thought, "This man is a conceited mofo, and someone, somewhere, should stand up to him."

But Bishamonten wasn't an outside observer, and while he acknowledged the conceited mofo bit, he wasn't about to insist on a "please and thank you". Besides, pointing out that Taishakuten was flawed in any way had more than once led to someone's firing, and he didn't want to join the ranks of the fired.

"Of course, sir," he smiled, stubbornly resisting all speculation on what kind of possibly cruel joke this might be.

"Excellent. I'll send you her address and directions should you need them, and I'll call her and explain the situation. I'm sure she'll understand," Taishakuten said, completely confident in his words. "Oh, and Reginald… I've heard about the loss of Charlotte."

Bishamonten waited for a well-meaning "I'm so sorry", a commiserating "How awful", or a chummy "Do you want me to have her punished?" Instead, he got a change of subject.

"It has come to my attention that Edward Varuna made a move towards Xavier's throat before he aborted his action and turned pale. Reginald, keep an eye on that man. Given the circumstances surrounding the severance of Xavier's last two assistants, I think you'll agree that Edward is a walking time bomb," Taishakuten sighed.

Bishamonten hadn't been there for Deva's sudden blowup or Rudra's hysterical freak-out, but he'd heard about both. Privately, he thought those two had endured more than should be necessary, but oh well.

If Varuna suddenly snapped and took the "confronting my boss before I quit" scenario even further, he would be appropriately punished. Bishamonten had to wonder what that would entail, though. Would he suddenly become Ninja Varuna, yelling an attack and performing a gravity-defying kick? Would he pour scalding-hot coffee into Koumokuten's lap, ouch?

Would he climb on top of a desk and bellow his grievances to the world? Would he take his boss hostage in his office and demand money, guns, and women? Or would he merely throw Koumokuten's phone down an elevator shaft?

However, if he tried any of those, Koumokuten would be more than a match for him. He'd probably kick his opponent out of the air himself, because he was into kickboxing. If coffee was poured onto sensitive body parts, he would sue Varuna for every penny he and his children's children would ever have.

If there was any desk-climbing, he'd simply pull his assistant off and send him packing. If taken hostage, Varuna would be forced to give him up after fifteen minutes of furious lecturing laced with profane insults. And if his phone was suddenly gone…

A vision of a mushroom cloud appeared in Bishamonten's head. Yup, then things would get really ugly.

"Reginald, I said keep an eye on him," Taishakuten repeated grouchily. "It's polite to offer a response to an order, you know. If I didn't know you better, I'd say you were ignoring me."

"Sorry! I was merely plotting ways to negate any potential assault attempts by Edward," Bishamonten lied again, smiling into the phone. "But yes, I'll watch him closely. And sir, do you want me to stay at Shashi's until she opens that gift, and I can convey her response to it to you?"

"Excellent idea," Taishakuten replied, sounding quite pleased with this initiative. "Yes, do that. I'll call her and tell her you'll be showing up. Tomorrow, I'll ask you all about her response, although I already know she'll love my little present."

"I'm sure she will," Bishamonten agreed.

Shashi liked being bought things, the more expensive the better. And Taishakuten certainly wasn't going to get her a Wal-Mart gift card, or even a Tiffany's gift certificate. It was probably jewelry or some sort of expensive little knickknack, perhaps a Swarovski figurine or Lenox statuette, at the least.

.

And so a few hours later, Bishamonten found himself on Royalty Drive, in another pricy exclusive community (the "Rolling Rago Hills", whatever the hell a Rago was), bearing a fairly small, flat box that he was pretty sure contained jewelry, perhaps a necklace. He'd been tempted to open it, check what it was, and expertly re-wrap the gift, but if Taishakuten got wind of that there would be trouble.

He located the right house, noted with some scorn that there was no fence and thus security system on the gate, and went up the front walk, suddenly a bit apprehensive.

_There's no need to be nervous, _he soothed himself. _He called her and she's expecting me, and thus won't think this little token is __mine__. She's just an old friend I lost touch with, remember? _

Still… he knew what it might seem like to someone who wasn't aware of the Taishakuten bit. He could hear a nosy, biddy neighbor now: "Oh Hubert, come see! That Dr. Prince has an admirer! There's a man on her doorstep with a gift-wrapped box. A looker, too."

He sighed, fought down a sudden memory of standing on Shashi's doorstep with flowers, and rang the bell. Well, the biddy neighbor could speculate all she wanted, because _he _knew this was merely a delivery job. And if asked about it, Shashi would set that lady straight right away.

The door opened, and Bishamonten smiled and greeted, "Hello Shashi, I… I…" He trailed off, because this was not Shashi.

This was a teenaged boy, one with sparkling green eyes, a friendly smile, a "Feed The Children Of Africa" shirt, and red hair past his shoulders, gathered into a loose ponytail with bangs. He looked to be maybe eighteen years old, probably a year or so younger, and kind, Bishamonten could tell that already. He was wearing jeans, sneakers, and a chain around his neck that disappeared beneath the "Africa" shirt, probably a medallion of some sort.

He stared at the boy. The boy stared back at him, rather nervous at such an intense gaze, and said, "Hello. You must be… you must be Mr. Bishamonten. Please come in."

Bishamonten obeyed, his eyes glued to the boy's red hair. Not the exact same shade as his own, but still a vibrant color not often found. It was, to say the least, food for thought.

_Stop overreacting, _he snapped to himself as the boy shut the door. _She wouldn't have run off if she was pregnant!_

…_She might have, though. If she thought… well, I don't know what she might have thought, but if she'd wanted to she would have! She always did do what she wanted._

The boy stuck out a hand and introduced himself with a polite, "I'm Tenou. Nice to meet you." Bishamonten shook it rather absently and asked, "Is your mother here?"

Tenou grinned sunnily, unaware that the visitor was calculating years in his head. "Yes," he replied. "I'll go get –"

"No need, Tenou dear."

Shashi appeared from the left, clad in a cashmere sweater and white slacks, and greeted, "Ah, Reginald. This is my son, Tenou. You'll of course remember that I always wanted to be a mother." She settled a proud hand on his shoulder, smiling to beat the band.

"Such… shockingly red hair," Bishamonten managed faintly, his eyes wide, but Shashi just laughed and said, "Oh, Tenou gets a lot of strange looks, don't you dear?"

"Yeah." Tenou smiled at Bishamonten and added, "You must too, sir."

"Uh… yes. I mean, no. I mean, yes sometimes, but it doesn't matter. Shashi," he said hastily, handing her the package, "this is from Taishakuten. A gift. He wanted to make sure you got it." He realized he was starting to babble in his nervousness, and made himself shut up.

_Take a deep breath. Calm down. Do you honestly think she would have gotten pregnant and left you, never letting you know? That would be a terrible thing to do. It's a coincidence! He doesn't have your or her eyes, anyway._

As Bishamonten was taking a deep breath and calming down, Shashi was opening the gift. She ripped the wrapping paper off and handed it to Tenou, who obediently received it with a curious look on his face. Smiling in an anticipatory manner, she opened up the cardboard box and tittered, "Oh my!"

And no, this was not jewelry at all. Bishamonten was a bit stunned to see that it was, in fact, a framed picture of Taishakuten. A bust portrait, with the CEO in front of a lovely backdrop of a cloudy sky, and of course wearing his best suit. The photographer had gotten his best side, and the thing was autographed.

In Taishakuten's forceful hand, the words "For my darling Shashi, now you'll have a piece of me near you always. –Arthur Taishakuten" were written. The frame looked quite pricy, and it had little… little lightning bolts at the corners?

Shashi seemed ever so pleased with this blatant example of megalomania, and tittered, "Oh, how sweet! Tenou honey, look at this. I'll put it on my dresser, or maybe my desk at work. We should make sure to get a portrait of us taken in reply."

"Great, Mother," Tenou agreed, smiling a brilliant smile. "Our last family portrait was back when I had braces, so I'd rather have a new one anyway."

Feeling a bit superfluous, Bishamonten muttered something like, "How fantastic," and couldn't help but remember that _he'd _needed braces too. Oh God, the evidence was piling up! Red hair, good-looking, needed braces, possibly the right age…

"Tenou," he said, as politely and non-confrontationally as he could, "I'd like to speak to your mother on a bit of a private matter. Would you be so kind as to leave us alone for just a minute, please?"

"Okay," the teenager agreed cheerfully. "I was only down here to take a break from my homework anyway. Nice to meet you, Mr. Bishamonten." And with that, he turned and trotted up the stairs, and Bishamonten could hear him walking down a hallway, and then opening and shutting a door.

Then his music could then be heard blasting in the air, and funnily enough, it wasn't rock or rap. Some sort of piano thing, with a husky-voiced woman singing, "Old friend, why are you so shy? Ain't like you to hold back, or hide from the light…"

Hmm, how funny that this song had also been playing when they'd met again. Bishamonten made a mental note to find the artist and title, as it was rather a lovely song. Then he returned his attention to the incredibly loaded and important question of Tenou's paternity, and asked, "Shashi… he must be, what, seventeen?"

She nodded casually and answered, "Yes, eighteen in September."

He wanted to say, "We were sleeping together eighteen years ago, and his hair color leads me to believe that young Tenou is possibly my offspring. Would you please enlighten me as to if I am in fact a father and never knew?"

Instead, he gave voice to an almost quavered, "Is he mine?"

She shook her head and replied, "Tenou has red hair because my father and his paternal grandmother did. Don't think like that."

Bishamonten was both incredibly relieved and irrationally disappointed as he responded, "Oh. Well that's… that's good." _And clearly, _his mind growled, _you wasted little time finding someone else, while I only started dating five years later._

"Would you like something to drink, Reginald?" she offered, apparently unaware of his issues. "I have tea, or perhaps a soda? Tenou drinks Dr. Pepper like nobody's business. Well, the diet kind, as he's an athlete. He takes fencing," she bragged, proud of her perfect son.

"No thank you," Bishamonten said politely, suddenly wanting to get out of here before memory lane made another appearance. "I have things to do. But it certainly was nice to meet Tenou," he continued, turning to go.

"Thank you for delivering Arthur's gift," Shashi murmured, walking him to the door. "Tell him I love it. Doesn't he have just the most intriguing attitude? He's like a warlord, or an emperor, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is," Bishamonten wholeheartedly agreed. "Well, Shashi, you have a lovely home. Have a nice day. Goodbye."

"Goodbye!" she sang as he walked out the door, giving his back a carefree smile. And then, as she shut the door and locked it, that smile fell off her face. She sagged against the door, letting out a relieved breath and closing her eyes.

Okay, that wasn't nearly as difficult as she'd thought it would be. Nothing had set him off, he hadn't mentioned the past, and he hadn't insisted on a needless paternity test, as if she was lying to him for kicks. Good, things were humming along just fine, and would continue to do so as long as she stuck to her vow.

Still, what a man. What a handsome, dedicated, intelligent, downright god-like in a suit man…

What a snake, she hastened to add, making herself remember the second-to-last time she'd seen him eighteen years ago. What a toady, dancing to Taishakuten's tune and obediently following whatever his boss's whims were today. What a… um…

What a happily married husband! Yes, it was _good _to think like that. That was so very important, wasn't it? Indeed, that was _extremely _important, so best to concentrate on the here and now.

"Tenou?" she called up the stairs. "Honey, you have fencing practice in half an hour, remember!"

"I know, Mother!" he called back. "I'm changing right now!"

Great, he was on track, just like he always was. He fenced at a highly competitive level, and Shashi was very pleased by this. Her little boy was becoming a man, one who could do whatever he wanted with his life. Why, he could be an Olympic athlete, or a great writer, or a chamber musician, or anything at all. He wanted to be a doctor, though, and of course he could be that too.

Even though Tenou had had his driver's license since the day he'd turned sixteen, his mother insisted on driving him to fencing practice. Why? Because it gave them extra time to bond, and that was a scarce commodity these days. What with her practice, his school, and various extracurricular activities, the time when they'd spent practically the entire day together was long gone.

She didn't mind sitting at the fencing school and reading a book, because that was the one bit of downtime she regularly got. It relaxed her, and by now she could shut out the shouts of "En garde!" and "Touché!" and "Fear my blade, noob, nyah-ha-ha!" pretty well. (And no, the last one wasn't common to anyone but one very annoying and conceited student.)

She was very, very proud of Tenou. He was a near-genius, he got fantastic grades, he read at mid-college level, he was musically inclined, he was a star athlete, and she just _knew _he'd be chosen as prom king next year. He didn't _want_ to be prom king and was in fact a bit shy, but no matter! He was the clear choice, and he'd get over his embarrassment, she assured herself.

He was, to be honest, the light of her life. Ever since she'd given birth to him, her son had been a major focus of her existence. Sure she pushed him into things he didn't want to do, but he had to be well-rounded, right? Right. And boy, it sure made _her _look good when he got an award or a commendation.

"It's all thanks to me," she'd brag to her friends and any other parents who would listen. "If I hadn't raised him so well, he wouldn't be where he is today. A child is, after all, a reflection of their parents."

Many people thought Shashi was overbearing, and there was some truth to that. However, Tenou thought the sun rose and set on her, so it was all right. He'd mention her first in any acceptance speeches he was called on to give, and once wrote her a poem for Mother's Day called "My Mother, My Shelter, My Home".

Yes, Tenou adored Shashi. She could have told him the moon was made of cheese and he might even have believed it. He'd swallowed the "Tooth Fairy" lie longer than anyone else his age, all because she'd insisted that yes honey, a tiny lady in a tutu would trade cash for pieces of his head, and it wasn't her at all.

Which wasn't to say that they didn't have their problems. Sometimes she snapped at him and got impatient with his trusting nature, and sometimes he thought she was mean to everybody else. He'd once started crying after she yelled at one of his friends for doing something dangerous and stupid, and like any thirteen-year-old, he'd once howled, "I didn't ask to be your kid!"

Today, though, he was being a shining example of maturity and dedication, hustling down the stairs with time to spare and hopping into the passenger seat with nary a murmur of "You know, I _can _drive myself." Shashi started the car, humming a happy little tune, and they were on their way.

"Wasn't that sweet of Arthur to send us that picture, honey?" she asked as he put his hair into a tighter ponytail. "He's so good about things like that."

"That was sweet of Mr. Bishamonten to deliver it, too," he replied, and then added, "He seems like a nice guy."

"He is," she assured him absently, glaring at a driver who'd cut her off. The nerve of these reckless speed demons! Didn't they know how important she and her son were? Ooh, bad drivers should all be shot, she thought acidly, conveniently forgetting the many years she'd been just as bad or even worse.

"Mother," Tenou asked rather hesitantly, "how did you know Mr. Bishamonten? Because you said something like 'You remember, I always wanted to be a mom'."

"I used to date him, sweetheart," she said, as casually as she could. "Eighteen years ago, but that's over and done with. Now Tenou, did you make sure to –?"

Tenou now looked both intrigued and nervous as he pointed out, "He seemed shocked to see me. Um… Mother… did you…?"

He sighed, and then bluntly asked, "He's not my dad, is he? I mean," he rushed on, "I know you said you'd tell me when I turn eighteen, but since you used to date him, is there a chance that –?"

"Reginald is not your father, Tenou," she replied firmly. "Don't think like that. Now really honey, did you make sure to finish your math homework?"

And with that, the issue was forgotten, as Shashi grilled her son on calculus.

.

"So," Kujaku greeted when Bishamonten walked into the office the next day, "I talked to Ellen, and _she _said –"

"Victor, no office gossip please," Bishamonten sighed, unbuttoning his overcoat. "You do realize that I'm the man who knows everything that goes on in this building. Where's James? He's usually so punctual."

"I'm right behind you, sir," Yasha told him, opening the door with coffee in hand. "Good morning."

"Reginald," Kujaku smirked, scribbling madly on the poster paper before him, "you only _think _you know everything. As I was _saying_, Ellen told me that Aaron told her that Artie's love interest used to be _your _honeybunchkins!"

Bishamonten bared his teeth in a sudden snarl, which made Yasha take a hasty step back. His boss gritted, "Why does that matter to you? It was almost twenty years ago, and clearly, we've both moved on. And what in the world are you doing with all those markers?" he snapped, trying to change the subject.

Kujaku's desk, in addition to bearing the "Secretary GOD" nameplate, a phone, a computer, and the poster paper, was covered in piles of markers, ranging from cheap child art supplies to very pricy professional-grade art supplies. There were so many of them Bishamonten couldn't see what the man was working on.

"I'm drawing a poster," Kujaku answered, then continued, "and distraction won't work on me! And according to Aaron you went white as a sheet and threw a glass, and then –"

"I did not _throw _a glass!" Bishamonten protested, his face getting red. "I lost my grip on it, that's all, and if Aaron thinks he can get away with exaggerating the facts like that, I will –"

"Well, I'm paraphrasing," Kujaku said unabashedly, giving Bishamonten a cheeky smile. "The gist was that you got upset and stained Artie's pants with wine, props to you. So Reginald… tell James and me all about it! Because Ellen also said that Aaron thinks it wasn't a good parting of ways."

Bishamonten wondered how he should reply. If he ordered them to drop it, they'd think he was hiding something. If he told them the truth, it would probably lead to further inquiries on the depth of his former feelings for Shashi, which could only mean trouble. So he decided to give them the bare facts, which they'd probably find out anyway, minus all the emotional baggage.

"It wasn't," he said shortly. "She left me. But as I already told the both of you, it doesn't matter anymore. So Victor, you may tell Aaron through his assistant that he's barking up the wrong tree if he expects me to suddenly snap and start screaming at _Taishakuten's girlfriend_."

Yasha nodded and murmured, "Excellent idea, sir. Victor, did you hear that? He said no more gossiping with Ellen."

That wasn't what Bishamonten had said, but hey, it'd work. Office gossip was one of the banes of his existence, along with split ends, tiny yappy dogs, and companies who insisted on resisting the juggernaut that was Tenkai Corporation on the warpath. Oh, and Kujaku's strangeness.

And then that very man did something quite unusual. He put down his marker, folded his hands, looked his boss in the eye, and intoned, "Stay away from her."

Bishamonten gave him a confused look and asked, "Victor, is this some sort of joke? She's Taishakuten's girlfriend, how can I stay away from someone who'll be at parties and dinners? Don't be silly."

"It's not a joke," Kujaku replied solemnly. "Reginald… she'll destroy what you have if you let her. As your friend, I'm warning you. Stay away from her."

A slight shiver of foreboding running down his spine, Bishamonten snapped, "Don't play male Cassandra. Nothing bad will happen, I won't let it. Now stop doodling and making doom-and-gloom predictions, and find me the file on the Gandarajah proposal."

Kujaku sighed, then in the space of a second went from prophet to goofy secretary. "Before I do, do you wanna see my poster?" he chirped, capping a grape-scented marker.

"No," Bishamonten barked, but Kujaku was already clearing away piles of copics, Sharpies, and Crayola "Scent-Sniffers" art supplies.

"Sure you do," he grinned, holding his art up for the full effect. "Da-da-da-_da_-da-da-DAAA!"

Bishamonten stared at a huge picture of a tiny, terrified mailboy cowering under a desk as a giant, armor-clad Taishakuten shook a finger at him and bellowed, "BAD!" In big purple letters, an admonition of "Slacking off costs this company hard-earned money. Don't do it!" informed the world of the dangers of indolence.

Bishamonten was floored by a couple things here. One: Taishakuten looked almost completely realistic, even wearing armor and three times the mailboy's size. Clearly Kujaku had serious artistic talents. Two: How hypocritical was this? Kujaku was a slacker extraordinaire, and –

Actually no, that wasn't true. He performed his duties flawlessly and worked hard, so hard he had time on his hands to make silly art pieces. Still…

"Don't you see the irony in your making this thing on the clock?" Bishamonten asked rather testily. "I don't pay you to draw posters."

"Oh, Artie told me to," Kujaku assured him, putting it back down. "He suggested I draw him in armor. I was gonna draw him stepping on Xavier's phone while Xavier begged for mercy, but I figured not everybody would get that one."

Bishamonten was speechless. Why did Taishakuten _encourage _this lunatic?

He turned to Yasha and ordered, "James, please tell Victor that I am annoyed. I'll be in my office, don't bother me unless it's important."

He waited for Yasha to obediently repeat his message word-for-word, but instead his assistant suggested, "You should label the mailboy with an arrow that says something like 'Surfs for porn while punched in'."

Bishamonten gritted his teeth and stalked into his office as Kujaku smiled, "Genius, James! Thanks much."

.

.

(AN: I don't think there _are _Crayola "Scent-Sniffers" markers, but Kujaku would probably buy them just for the name, and use them alongside expensive copics.

So… Tenou! I love that guy. And ha, Shashi hit Bishamonten's car and tried to wriggle out of it. It's something she'd do, after all. And only Taishakuten would send an underling to deliver a token of affection to his girlfriend. Can you tell I dislike him?

Rago is the Guardian Beast of the Ashuras that Shashi summoned in Volume Two to go over the fence to Taishakuten, in case you've forgotten. Why do I get the sense that we were supposed to see much more of the Ashura tribe? After all, those Twelve Generals were mentioned a lot in the early manga and omakes, and subsequently dropped like hot stones. Way to not plan your story out there, CLAMP.

The next chapter is one of my favorites, because it introduces three characters I find amusing and quite like, and Lord Ashura and his adorable son. And no, Shashi's not Ashura's mom in this AU, sorry! I couldn't find a way to work it in. Oh well, most upcoming fics have that canon relationship in place, with all the associated angsting.)


	5. New Neighbors

_In which our heroine is most displeased by headbanded young men_

.

.

"Shashi," Taishakuten said one evening in April, "you've heard me talk about Karl a lot, and I think it's time you met him. After all, you've met my assistant and my Generals, and I'm sure you've realized that I spend a lot of time with my best friend."

She agreed, "Yes, and he sounds so nice. Didn't you say he's a police weapons instructor?"

"Not only that, he's a black belt in jujitsu, and once saved a couple from a motorcycle gang with his skills," Taishakuten bragged, proud of his buddy. "He's a very interesting person. Although I must warn you, he talks about his son a lot," he sighed, not so proud of such parental affection.

Karl Ashuraou and Taishakuten had been best friends since the end of freshman year in college. Which had been a surprise, as when they were introduced as roommates they'd hated each other on sight.

Taishakuten had short-sheeted Ashuraou's bed, stolen his favorite music tapes and hurled them onto a roof, and tripped him in the hallways. Ashuraou had taken the high road: he'd merely spread rumors that Taishakuten was cheating in every class he took. Each had bawled to his parents to pick him up and transfer him to another exclusive school, and each had been given the answer of "Tough it out at least until the end of the year."

And then, one night, after a hard day of finals, they'd been too exhausted to snipe at each other and called a temporary truce.

"Karl," Taishakuten had sighed, collapsing onto his bed, "I'll let you use my headphones if you let me read your copy of Dracula."

Ashuraou had paused, biting back the immediate retort of "You're the reason I don't have my own headphones, you sneaky bastard. You sold them on the sidewalk, and I have no idea who bought them."

But it had been an exhausting day, and he _really _wanted to listen to Bruce Springsteen, and even if Taishakuten ended up burning Dracula that was fine. After all, he'd practically memorized the thing, and any used bookstore worth its salt would have it.

"All right," he'd agreed warily, and they'd swapped methods of relaxation.

"_Thank _you, Karl," Taishakuten had breathed fervently, really meaning it. He'd been so sick of reading weighty things for classes that he would have welcomed even a comic book, which he thought were stupid. So maybe the enemy from the other side of the room wasn't as bad as he'd thought, if he could be generous after all Taishakuten had done to him.

And miracle of miracles, the next morning, Taishakuten offered, "Karl, why don't you sit by me at breakfast? I'll buy you yours, in thanks."

Ashuraou, still a bit suspicious but ultimately pleased, had accepted this offer, because what college student would turn down somebody else footing the bill? They'd made stilted small talk at first, gotten onto the subject of the next presidential election, and been astounded to discover that, by God, they had similar interests after all!

That had been the beginning of a glorious friendship. They'd visited each other over the summer, signed up to be dorm mates again, and eventually rented an apartment together in junior year. And neither ever had to worry about stolen headphones or rumors again, because they'd buried those hatchets deep, deep underground.

Ashuraou had gone into weapons instruction for the police, and Taishakuten had gone into business, the world of which would never be the same. They kept in touch while attending different graduate schools, Taishakuten once bought Ashuraou a car for his birthday, and Ashuraou gave him fancy guns in thanks.

The one blight on their relationship, as the CEO saw it, was Ashuraou's son. The result of a fling that had had serious consequences, young Ashura adored his daddy and his daddy adored him… at Taishakuten's expense. The nerve, huh? Taishakuten had been around first, after all, and he was so much more interesting, he was sure.

So he was pleased when Ashuraou regretfully informed him over the phone that Ashura wouldn't be accompanying him on his trip to meet Shashi at Taishakuten's house. "He has a birthday party then, and he doesn't want to miss it," he sighed. "He got Elijah a great gift that he picked out himself, and he's excited to see his reaction to it."

"No doubt he wants to stuff his greedy little face with cake too," Taishakuten muttered, quickly and under his breath. The child loved food, and was always hungry. He was an adorable bottomless pit, but Taishakuten ignored the adorable part.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that," Ashuraou replied. "What did you say?"

"I said no doubt he wants to be in place when they have cake too," Taishakuten lied, with an angelic smile on his face. "And who doesn't like cake?"

And so, when Shashi rang the doorbell of Taishakuten's opulent mansion three days later, she encountered a very handsome man with golden eyes. He had black hair a little longer than shoulder-length, a kind smile, and was still in his uniform from work. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and smiling like the sun, apparently one of those really, really nice and responsible people.

Shashi liked men in uniform, she liked them a lot. And this one was a hottie. Before she could introduce herself to this hottie in uniform, Taishakuten smiled, "Shashi, this is my best friend, Karl Ashuraou. Karl, this is my girlfriend, Dr. Shashi Prince."

Shashi beamed at Ashuraou. Ashuraou beamed back at her. Taishakuten felt a sudden, two-way surge of possessiveness.

_Don't you dare make googly eyes at each other! My girlfriend and my best friend: never the twain shall meet. I shall rend you apart and lecture you both, because you two have to pay attention to me! I'm the most important person here!_

Ignoring the most important person there, Ashuraou kissed Shashi's hand and smiled, "A doctor. Helping mankind and soothing troubled souls with your knowledge, no doubt. The world could use more doctors."

She almost said, "Oh no, I'm in it for the money and prestige," but instead giggled, "And you help protect our streets from violent hoodlums. The world could use more police weapons instructors. Arthur says you're a bit of a legend."

Ashuraou flushed ever so slightly in embarrassment and muttered something about larger than life stories. Then he rallied and replied, "Arthur tells _me _you have a son. Tenou, if I recall his name correctly. What's he like?"

Shashi launched into a speech about how Tenou was the perfect child, how Tenou was so smart and capable, how Tenou was not only a scholar but a superb fencer, and basically how Tenou was the best teenager the world had ever known. And of course she made sure to slip in how it was all thanks to her that he was so well-adjusted, intelligent, and practically perfect.

Taishakuten, feeling a bit ignored and rather like a third wheel in his own home, finally jumped in with, "Yes, Tenou is a very nice boy. I do like him so. Now, Shashi, Karl, won't you come sit down?"

After taking their seats, the three of them got into a conversation about Taishakuten and Ashuraou's college days.

"Oh yes, we once vandalized a rival fraternity member's car," Ashuraou admitted, sounding rather ashamed of that. "His parents had bought it for him just a month ago, and he literally burst into tears."

"It was wonderful," Taishakuten said happily, remembering that lovely feeling of triumph. "And he never found out who did it. That certainly taught him not to egg our window."

"If he'd just egged your window and didn't suspect you two, he must not have been very bright," Shashi pointed out.

"Oh no," Taishakuten explained, "it was an entire year later, dear. Karl wanted to let it go, but _I _knew he had to be punished. So when he wouldn't stop bragging about his car, I decided that would do nicely. Destroying what people love most in the world is the best revenge."

Shashi, being a not-nice person herself, did not find this a mean-spirited and unnecessarily cruel action. And hey, he wasn't going to destroy what _she _most loved, so it was funny.

Ashuraou didn't think so. "I often think I should email Adam Zabroskie-Higgins and apologize," he sighed. "Just to get it off my chest, if nothing else."

"Don't do that," Taishakuten snapped, suddenly every inch a scary CEO. "If you do that, Karl, I'll be very upset, and no one likes when I'm upset. It's been over twenty years, anyway, and surely he's gotten over it."

Here he was incorrect: Adam Zabroskie-Higgins sent a little prayer to God every night that the hooligans who had killed his cherry-red Mustang (with the personalized license plate) were suffering. He'd loved that car, and his parents had decided that they'd already paid for one, he wasn't getting another. Sure by now he had a much better Mustang, but it was the _principle _of the thing.

After discussing college, they moved on to discussing their current jobs. Shashi learned more about how to shoot various guns than she'd ever thought she would, and as Taishakuten ducked out of the room to make some important calls, Ashuraou learned all about gynecology.

"Isn't it amazing how mammals have evolved?" he said, clearly not as disturbed by this subject as Taishakuten was. "Fascinating. To change the subject, do you ever deal with irate religious whackjobs that are angry about birth control?"

"Yes," she sighed, "which is funny, because they're all so against abortion. One would think they'd want to minimize the chances of someone needing to choose that however they could. Apparently, like Monty Python said, 'every sperm is sacred' to those people."

"Religion is the opiate of the masses," Taishakuten smirked, coming back in. "Marx said that. Bad ideas on capitalism, good ideas on religion. It's my personal opinion that when you get God, you lose your brain."

"So true," Shashi agreed, as Ashuraou muttered something about how church wasn't a bad thing. "Arthur, come sit down and tell us all about your week. Which companies did you destroy recently?"

After much talk of the cutthroat world of business, Ashuraou regretfully excused himself with a polite, "My son should be getting home from his party soon, and I need to be there. Shashi, it was so nice to meet you," he smiled as all three of them walked to the door.

"And Karl, it was so nice to meet you too," she smiled back, giving him a little finger wave. "I look forwards to seeing you again!"

As Ashuraou drove home, he was still smiling. _It's so nice that Arthur finally has someone he loves, _he thought as he made a left turn. _Poor lonely man, I was beginning to think he'd be a bachelor forever. And he just might gain a stepson, if all goes well. Children are the future, and a blessing from above._

His own son was the best thing to happen to him. Young Ashura was the apple of his father's eye, and Ashuraou often thought that if given the choice between the entire world suffering or Ashura in trouble, he would throw the world to the wolves in a half-heartbeat.

Little William Joseph Ashuraou… that was his full name. But since there had been, in fact, two other boys called "Billy", one called "Will", one called "William", and a girl named "Billie" in his preschool, the teacher had asked Ashura what he wanted to be known as.

"We already have a Billy A.," she'd sighed. "Is there a nickname you like to use?"

"My daddy calls me 'most impowtant being on the pwanet'," he'd responded brightly in a lisp. "Will that wowk?"

The teacher had hastily muttered that everybody was special, so no, try again. He'd thought hard, and come up with, "I'm 'Ashuwa'. Thewe's an 'oh' sound on the end, but I can't put the sywables together yet without messing it up," he'd told her, pleased with himself for pronouncing at least part of his difficult last name.

" 'Ashuwa'?" the teacher asked, and then decided, "Sure, you can be 'Ashura', honey. That's great."

And it had stuck. By now, even Ashuraou called his son "Ashura", and neither saw any reason to change it. "Billy" was a nice name and all, but "Ashura" just _sounded _cool. The kid would probably get married with that nickname, or have it legally changed when he turned eighteen.

"Daddy!" he sang now, launching himself at Ashuraou for a hug as he walked in the door, "Daddy, hi! Did you bring me anything?" he asked hopefully, as Ashuraou made a habit of spoiling his son rotten whenever he could. Candy, video games, toys galore, and even a gerbil, and these were all on regular days, not Christmas or his birthday.

"I'm sorry, not this time," Ashura admitted, sounding very guilty. "But tomorrow, we can go to the zoo and I'll get you another stuffed animal, all right?" he bargained.

"Okay," Ashura agreed. That was certainly an acceptable tradeoff, yessiree. He then asked, "Why were you late coming home today?"

"I was meeting Arthur's girlfriend, son. Remember? She seems very –"

"_Oh_," Ashura sighed, sounding incredibly exasperated. "Him again. Hasn't he gotten arrested for being a jerkface yet?"

Yes, Ashura wanted Taishakuten gone forever. After all, the big stupidhead kept hogging all his dad's attention, and being mean to Ashura himself in ways that Ashuraou never picked up on.

"No, he hasn't," Ashuraou snapped. "Ashura, there's no need for you to be so rude."

"I don't _like _him," the little boy muttered, folding his arms and pouting. "He's a horrible man. And I don't like that he keeps bothering you, Daddy. Can't you tell him to walk off a bridge instead?" he pleaded, using the "cutie-pie" approach.

"Ashura," Ashuraou scolded gently, "Arthur is the best and oldest friend I have. And if you'd just let your dislike of him go, you'd realize that he's a fine figure of a man that we could all aspire to emulate in his strength of character. He's the strongest person I know of, and –"

"But he uses that strength to be a butt!" his son whined, clenching the air. "And he keeps looking at me like I'm a bug he wants to squish! Daddy, can't you get a _new _best friend? Pleeease?"

"No, I will not get a new best friend," Ashuraou replied, a bit grumpily. "And don't call him a 'butt', son. It's not nice at all, and please recall that he never insults _you._"

"He insulted me last Thursday!" Ashura practically screeched, approaching a tantrum at a very rapid pace. "He called me an 'annoying, abominable little mistake, one who needs to be gagged and thrown in a cellar', Daddy! He _did!_"

"He did _not_," Ashuraou snapped, folding his own arms.

He was completely incorrect, but thought his pal would never hurt his son's feelings, which Taishakuten used to his advantage. And after all, Ashuraou never said anything bad about Taishakuten's little psycho minion Koumokuten, who he thought needed to go stick his head in a sewer.

Ashura gritted his teeth, having dealt with this before. He now had two choices of subsequent actions: he could insist that Taishakuten had been a butt and get really mad and a time-out, or he could drop it and distract his father with the macaroni art he'd made today in craft class.

"Daddy, I made you a macaroni sculpture," he said sweetly, having gone with the path that wouldn't lead to him standing in the corner. "It's you!"

"That's so nice, Ashura," Ashuraou smiled, well aware of what ploy his son had used. "Where is it? Or is it still at school?"

"It's on the kitchen table," Ashura grinned, taking his dad's hand and skipping into that room. "But it broke in my backpack, so your head fell off and so did one of your legs. But I can glue you back together! Or we can boil and eat you," he decided, hungry again.

"Ashura, we are not going to eat glue," the exasperated Ashuraou muttered firmly. "We'll just repair this… this _fantastic _sculpture," he praised, looking at it. "Wow, son, that's great. Excellent use of the medium."

He was being nice. Had he not been told the sculpture was supposed to be him, he would have thought it was a mutated table or something, as the head was off and the legs were shorter than the arms, which were on the ground too. And the torso was one big blob of macaroni noodles and glue.

"You're doing a back handspring, Daddy," Ashura informed him proudly. "You're saving the President. And he's going to offer you a job as his head of security in the White House, and we can move away from Taishakuten."

Ashuraou let that one pass, and praised his son's artistic talents some more.

.

Five days after meeting Taishakuten's bestest buddy in the whole wide world, Shashi looked out her window in the morning to see a moving truck in front of the house next to hers, on the right. This was no surprise, as Kendra and Daniel Martinez had sold their house a while ago and finally closed on their new one.

Shashi liked them well enough, but their teenaged son was a brat. He wasn't friends with Tenou, which was just fine with her because Jorge was a couch potato underachiever. Still, that meant he was hardly ever in the yard, so she barely knew him at all. Wasn't it nice how life worked sometimes?

She would rather miss Kendra and Daniel, though. They were pushovers who never confronted her about anything, and were nice enough to bring over baked goods during the holidays. With that in mind, she decided to bid them farewell before she went to work.

"So you're off to Illinois," she said brightly, walking over to their front sidewalk, where they were standing and looking a bit teary-eyed. "Good luck!"

"I don't wanna go," Jorge mumbled, slouching even more. "I don't know anybody there."

"I'm sure you'll make new friends," Shashi lied, smiling a practiced smile. "Why, the only people I knew when I moved here were my sister and brother-in-law, and my boss at work. But I soon met all sorts of interesting people. You just have to put yourself out there," she nearly lectured.

"Son, will you come help me get the dog's crate in the backseat?" Daniel asked, forestalling any whines of "That takes effort!" "Look at Bowser, he's happy to be going somewhere new!"

Indeed, the labradoodle was slobbering in excitement, grinning a dog grin and wagging his tail so hard it sounded like a baseball bat against his crate. Oh boy, car ride! Goin' for a car ride! In his crate, which negated some of the fun, but hey, it was still gonna be great. In fact, life was great! And he had a new chew bone, to make life even better.

Shashi looked down her nose at the happy canine. She didn't like dogs, and this one drooled so darn much. Not to mention howled whenever his people weren't home, despite their training efforts. She'd suggested a shock collar, but they'd refused.

She'd then considered buying one herself and leaving it anonymously on their doorstep, with a note that said, "Shut him up, or there will be consequences." Alas, they'd probably suspect her as the culprit, so she'd ultimately decided not to. But now he'd be gone, all the way to Illinois.

As Jorge and Daniel hefted the crate and Bowser followed them to the car, Kendra took yet another picture of her old house with the camera she was carrying.

"I'll miss it," she sighed to Shashi. "We've lived here for fourteen years, and this is the only house Jorge's ever known. And I've put so much work into the yard."

In reality, her work had extended to looking at magazines and internet articles for ideas, printing or cutting them out, discussing them with her landscaper, and paying for them, but she counted it as hard work. A former model, she'd never had to work a day in her life, which Shashi often wanted to strangle her for.

And guess who was prettier anyway? Why, Shashi was! Kendra was _wayyy _too skinny, and fake-tanned with bleached hair. Her neighbor was curvy, shorter but still a decent height, with glossy chocolate hair and fair skin that would never develop cancer. Not to mention that she had an actual brain and work ethic.

But oh well. She did rather like Kendra, who seemed to like her back. They'd made a half-hearted effort of "Oh, we'll email each other when you move away," but each of them knew they never would. Still, they were nice to each other, and had had some fun times.

"I'm sure the new owners will treat your house and yard well," Shashi assured her. "And I'll miss the way you'd wave at me in the mornings, and send over those lovely cookies and loafs of bread. You were a good neighbor." _Despite the stupid dog._

"I'm sure the new ones will be just as nice," Kendra smiled. "We liked them. So polite, and they sent us a thank-you card. A musical one, that sings 'Our House' by that one seventies band."

Shashi chuckled a bit at that, and asked, "What are their names, and what are they –?"

"Honey," Daniel yelled from the car, "I just heard on the radio that there's a traffic jam on the freeway! We'd better get going if we want to make our flight on time! We're cutting it close as it is!"

"Okay dear!" she called back, then turned to Shashi and gave her a sudden hug. "Goodbye, Shashi. You were a good neighbor too," she sighed, then pulled back, gave her old house one last wave like it could wave back at her, and walked to the car.

Shashi waved goodbye as they pulled away, wondering what would happen if they missed their flight. But oh well, there was nothing she could do about it. She did rather wish they'd had time to discuss the new owners, but of course she'd meet them soon enough.

And so when, later that day, she came home to see two strange cars pull up in front of the house next door, she thought about going over there to say hello. Then again, she might get roped into helping them move things in if she did that, so she decided not to. God forbid she break a nail.

She amused herself by imagining what the new neighbors would be like. Would there be four perhaps, a happy little family of Mom, Dad, and two adorable, well-behaved children? Yes, that would be nice. She could hand them her card and offer, "Well Mrs. New Neighbor, if you need an ob-gyn, I happen to be one! Fancy that, hmm?"

Or maybe they'd be elderly, a nice older couple with a goldfish tank and –

_Ding-dong!_

Hmm, that was odd. She hadn't invited anyone over, and since this was a wealthy community the rabble of solicitors and Jehovah's Witnesses was kept away, for the most part. So who would be ringing her doorbell?

She walked over, opened the door, and blinked at Kurt Cobain. No wait, a t-shirt with a _picture _of Nirvana's lead singer, on the chest of a tall man with long blue-black hair.

The man smiled and waved. "Hello," he said politely. "I'm one of your new next-door neighbors. My name's Seiryuu Waters. The movers haven't gotten here yet, so I thought I'd pop over and introduce myself."

Shashi, who was getting a bad feeling about this, forced a smile and murmured, "I'm Shashi Prince. How lovely to meet you."

She expected this lunatic to shove inside her house and ask something like, "Where's the booze?" but instead Seiryuu proffered a hand and grinned, "Nice to meet _you_. Feel free to come over any time, we love company."

She shook it, smiling a bit more naturally now and replying, "That's very kind of you. Perhaps I'll be over later with my son, Tenou. He's excited to meet you. Well, I mean, he's excited to meet the new neighbors, he has no idea who you are, really."

"What a wonderful name," Seiryuu enthused. " 'Heavenly king', if I recall my grandfather's Japanese lessons correctly. He was from Tokyo, or near enough. Thus my Japanese first name."

Shashi, surprised that this stranger had figured out her son's exotic moniker, nodded. "Yes. Do you have any children?" she asked, mostly because it was polite to do so.

She was quite surprised when he burst out laughing. Hmm, maybe he was one of those "Childfree" people who thought kids were annoying burdens?

"No," he finally managed, "both my brother and I think the population is out of control already, but we do have three cats. Muffin, Mittens, and Mikey," he said, like a father naming triplets. "Muffin's a Rex, Mittens is a Maine Coon mix, and Mikey is a God-knows-what."

Shashi was getting that bad feeling again as she muttered, "How… nice."

She then caught sight of a white-haired man coming up the walk, his hair just as long as Seiryuu's, wearing a "Smashing Pumpkins" t-shirt and rocker headband. Now that she looked, Seiryuu had one too.

He noticed her wide-eyed look over his shoulder and turned, saying, "Oh. Hakuryuu! This is Shashi. She and her son will be coming over later," he said happily, obviously one of those extroverted people who had no concept of social awkwardness.

Hakuryuu grinned and replied, "Wonderful. How old is your son? Ten? Eight?"

"Tenou is seventeen," Shashi said frostily. Nope, she didn't like this one either.

As Hakuryuu turned pink and muttered an apology, Seiryuu studied his neighbor quizzically, like she was a fascinating example of arrested youth. It was annoying, annoying to the extreme.

"Wow. You don't look old enough to have a seventeen-year-old," he decided.

"I take care of myself," she snapped, filled with the desire to yank that stupid headband off and strangle him with it. _Thanks for being a moron, idiot. And if that was a prelude to hitting on me, I will hurt you._

Correctly divining that he was on thin ice, Seiryuu wisely backed off. "Sorry ma'am," he said sheepishly, then rallied with, "Um, well, please do come over whenever. Like I said, we love company."

His brother waved and smiled, "Goodbye, Shashi," as they both turned to go, and good God, their hair was down to their lower backs! This was a bad sign.

"I'm 'Dr. Prince' to you, not 'Shashi'," she muttered, shutting her door as Seiryuu asked, "Hey Haku, didja make sure to put my electric in the music room?"

She sighed, slid the catch, and wondered how the hell these people had managed to afford a house in this neighborhood. With her luck the Waters brothers were rock stars, and if they were Tenou would gleefully gravitate towards them. He loved music, he was learning to play the guitar himself, and he already played the flute.

Shashi decided, as she watched Seiryuu carry in a cat carrier in each hand, that she would have to find her son a normal musical mentor, one who didn't wear a t-shirt that featured Kurt Cobain or Billy Corgan. If she didn't, she might be dealing with tracked-in hair from Muffin, Mittens, and Mikey… and she hated cats.

.

About a week after Shashi had met the "undoubted deviants next door", as she'd ranted to the mirror that night, Bishamonten was in a bad mood (again). His hostile takeover of yet another company had been thwarted, by a combination of bad luck, faulty intelligence, and the Jenkins, Jenkins, and Jones Inc. executives displaying something one rarely saw in business: solidarity in the face of bribes and intimidation.

"Don't they know who we are?" he'd snarled to Yasha at the end of the day. "How dare they oppose us! When we end up buying them out in a couple of years, I won't forget this display of defiance."

"Nice alliteration!" Kujaku complimented before Yasha could point out that Jenkins, Jenkins, and Jones Inc. had impressed him with their ethics. "Was it a dastardly, dubious display of diligent defiance, dude? Did it dreadfully drive you to drama?"

"No, but I'll damn well destroy the dunces all the same," Bishamonten muttered, unconsciously playing along. Then he snapped, "Victor, don't ever wear that tie again, or I'll write you up."

The tie in question was silk, which was fine, and featured a purple, gold, and blue chameleon, which was not fine. To make matters worse, it was cartoon, and the chameleon's eyes were googly and pointing in different directions, as chameleon's eyes were prone to doing. Bishamonten had to wonder what store could sell that tie and sleep at night.

"Okay," Kujaku agreed cheerfully, which was a bit disappointing. His boss had rather been hoping for a fight, which would help blow off steam. Oh well, at least that stupid tie would never be worn in this office again.

As he drove home, Bishamonten calmed himself down by focusing on his lovely paycheck, which he'd gotten yesterday. So many zeroes! Money made the world go 'round, and it could buy, if not happiness, pretty much anything else. Minus the kid you'd been trying to adopt, sadly.

He pulled into his expansive garage, shut the car off, and strolled up the back walk after locking both his precious Cadillac and four-car garage. He often wished they had a connected garage like most mansions, but oh well. Other than that, this one was perfect.

He found himself striding into his dining room in a slightly better mood, only to blink in unhappy surprise at what he saw there. Kisshouten was seated at her spot, literal piles of open books around her, flipping through one armed with sticky colored tabs. He could see bright pink, yellow, blue, and green tabs in many of the books already, and clearly she'd been at this for a while.

"Hello, Reginald," she smiled, looking up. "I'm sorry about the mess, but I had an idea and needed some references. The roast is in the oven already, so I thought –"

"What, exactly, are you referencing?" he asked rather shortly. "Why didn't you do this at your studio? It looks like a library exploded out here, and don't think I'm going to help you move these when you're done."

"I'm referencing dresses," she explained, "and you know that I keep my library at home. I'll take the books I need to the studio tomorrow. And the table here in the dining room is bigger than the little one we have in the library, so I figured I'd make use of it."

"Kisshouten," he snapped, "I would like to be able to sit at my place and not have to deal with giant books. Move them," he ordered imperiously, lifting his chin for that perfect "master and commander" effect.

She mutinied. "Reginald, we have a table big enough for twelve people. Why don't we just eat on the other end tonight?" she suggested, very reasonably. "I promise I'll move all the books tomorrow."

Bishamonten's eyebrows lowered in a glower. That was _his _spot, and if he had to sit somewhere else at his own table things would go awry. Severely OCD as a child and a control freak as a teenager, this wrench into his perfect little routine had to be extracted and dealt with.

"No," he replied curtly, folding his arms. "That's my spot, damn it all. I don't want to eat on the other end and face the wall! Move the books, I mean it."

"Reginald," she attempted in a studiously calm tone, "they're organized right now, and if I move them now I'll have to reorganize them later. I already told you they'll be gone tomorrow, and sitting at the other end of the table isn't going to kill you, honey. You can just focus on me, all right?"

Unaware of how childish he was being, he barked, "Who said you could clutter up this dining room anyway? We have a library, and you could have put them on the floor if need be. You're being selfish, Kisshouten!" And that just went to show how completely un-self-aware he was right then.

"Don't snap at me," she told him, still calm but now looking a bit annoyed. "This is _not _the big deal you're making it out to –"

"I worked all day," he interrupted, "making money for us to live like we do, and all I ask when I come home is that I don't have any conflict! You know that! And now that we're on the subject, I don't think you appreciate the sacrifices I make for you!"

Well, he'd certainly gotten the fight he wanted, even if it was pretty one-sided. But hell, it felt good to yell, and surely Kisshouten would agree in time that she was being silly. The nerve of that woman, reading books at her own table!

"Like I don't sacrifice too," she hissed, putting the tome she was holding down and standing up. "Like I don't refrain from doing things I want because you tell me not to. Remember that conference in Tahiti you refused to let me go to? _I _remember it, Reginald. I humored you, and you never even thanked me!'

The conference in Tahiti, by way of explanation, had been "The Nude In Art: Why The Human Form Is So Beautiful", which had made Bishamonten feel a bit faint. He had a hard enough time when she painted nude women draped in cloth with nothing naughty showing, but the brochure had featured a graphic of Michelangelo's "David".

Naked men? In _his _wife's line of sight? Not acceptable at all.

"Oh, make me out to be the villain," he groused, shaking his head in disgust. "I'm only protecting you, so don't whine. Now move those damned books, I mean it!"

She looked like she wanted to beat him over a head with one of the hardcovers, but instead gritted, "You can eat alone tonight. I'll make myself a sandwich, and you can just forget about the roast because I shouldn't have to cook for someone who treats me this way."

With that, she stormed past him and into the kitchen, snapping over her shoulder, "I hate when you take your work issues out on me! Please note how I never do the same to you."

As Kisshouten turned the oven off with violent motions, Bishamonten stomped into his study. He was mad, mad, mad. Over such a trifling little thing! Why didn't she just admit she was wrong and obey him? Women… they truly were from another planet, he sneered as he slammed the door.

This was definitely not the first fight they'd had over something stupid, but it had gotten very angry very fast. Had he examined this, he might have realized that it was an ominous sign of trouble on the horizon. After all, he had been snappier as of late, and still hadn't really talked out the Charlotte issue.

As it was, though, he turned on his TV and watched a show with bikini babes, just to annoy Kisshouten if she came in. She didn't, but oh well.

.

Two days after Bishamonten had bitched about books, Shashi sipped a mug of tea, looking out her living room window at the front yard. Spring… it was a good thing. Trees and the grass were green again, she had some flowers planted and coming up, and the flowering almond across the street was an explosion of near-frothy pink blossoms.

And then, something out of place came into her line of sight. A car, a well-kept but not fancy car, looked like an older model. It was green, and it was going fast, tearing down the residential street.

She was just thinking that this was a driver who needed to take it easy when the car screeched to a halt in front of the house across from her, made a violent three-point turn, and tore up some of her pansies. Yes, the tire had gone into her garden, and four of those just-planted pansies (which she hadn't put in herself) were ripped to shreds.

"HEY!" she yelled, slamming her mug down as the car halted in front of the Waters house. For a moment she just stood there, clenching her fists in rage at this irresponsible and destructive act.

And then, to make matters worse, the door of the house opened and Hakuryuu and Seiryuu bounded out, open shirts flapping and with those goddamned headbands on. They were grinning, and she really hoped for their sakes that they weren't doing so because her flowers had been destroyed. If they wanted to stay alive, they were just happy to see the perpetrator and hadn't seen the pansies get mauled.

So who was this mysterious and bad driver?

She watched as the car door opened and a young man got out, hanging up a cell phone and wearing ripped jeans, a t-shirt that said "My way or the HIGHWAY", and a headband. Oh God… another one!

She glowered as she studied this third blight on the neighborhood. A teenaged boy, maybe fifteen? Sixteen? Younger than Tenou for sure. Anyway, Headband Idiot Three had messy red-brown hair, long for a boy but not nearly as long as Hakuryuu's and Seiryuu's, was short but seemed to be pretty muscular, and was beaming at the other two.

_And what's your name? _she sneered in her thoughts. _Juniorryuu? Redryuu? Fool-Who-Can't-Driveryuu? _

For running over her pansies, he would pay. She shelled out a lot of money to make her property look nice, and the crushed flowers and torn-up turf would cost her. She was just thinking up a fitting punishment for him when something unusual happened.

Hakuryuu noticed a shred of purple on New Guy's wheel and frowned, saying something to him. New Guy flushed, said something in return, and pointed in an embarrassed manner to the scene of the crime.

Shashi's mouth dropped open as Hakuryuu downright smacked him upside the head as Seiryuu winced, then pointed to her house like a judge. And strangely enough, instead of the brawl she'd expected, the boy grimaced and trudged over, a condemned criminal in the courtroom of Royalty Drive.

She quickly crossed to the door, grinning evilly. Excellent, she could verbally abuse this pansy-killing hoodlum and demand he repay her, bwa-ha-ha! She was _good_ at verbally abusing people.

_Ding-dong!_

Somehow, the doorbell managed to sound guilty.

She opened the door and glared. The boy gave her no time to launch into diatribe, as he immediately mumbled, "Um… my name's Nathan Ryuu and I accidentally ran over some of your flowers. I'm really, really, really sorry. Er, I can help you replant them or pay for new ones. And did I mention I was sorry?"

And before she could respond, he quickly farewelled, "So, sorry! Bye!" and whipped around, starting to jog down the sidewalk as she blinked at him, stunned at such audacity.

"Nathan!" Hakuryuu's voice bellowed. "You're not finished! Go right back there, mister, and accept the consequences of your actions!"

Ryuu cringed but obediently went back, and Shashi took advantage of this lead-in to threaten him.

"If you don't pay me back and pay my gardeners and swear to never, _ever _be so distracted again, I'll sue you! Or slash your tires," she decided, giving him a choice of punishments.

His face blanched, and he actually threw himself down on bended knee before her. "Please, I'm sorry!" he begged. "I just got my license _yesterday!_ They'll take it away if you take me to court! And I can't afford new tires, and this is my dad's car and he'll _kill _me if it gets wrecked!"

Shashi felt like throwing her head back and laughing triumphantly, just like a movie villainess who had an insignificant little do-gooder manacled before her. This fool had messed with the wrong doctor!

"You should have thought of that before you ran over my pansies!" she told him, grinning in a very nasty manner. "But you wrecked my property, so I have every right to do –"

"Mother?" Tenou's voice came from behind her. "Mother, he's sorry and it was an accident. Have him pay for them and don't cause more damage."

Shashi turned to see her son, with a long-suffering expression on his face, standing behind her with a pencil behind his ear. Clearly, this drama downstairs had pulled him away from his math homework.

"Like he said," Ryuu muttered fervently, still kneeling as if he was some sort of medieval squire. "Thanks, man," he directed at Tenou, who smiled at him encouragingly.

"Tenou honey," Shashi said, in the overly sweet tone she used on her son when she was annoyed with him, "he has to be taught that running over people's gardens is a bad thing. Go back upstairs and do your homework."

"Mother, c'mon, he's already apologized and offered reparations. Let him off the hook, because didn't you once say that you hit somebody's car and broke the fender off?" Tenou pointed out. "And the guy didn't sue you. Pay it forward," he suggested innocently.

She considered how to reply to this. A response of "I think Reginald was distracted by my breasts, and he's nicer than I am" would probably scar her little boy for life, so…

"All right honey, since you're so set on me forgiving this idiot," she said witheringly, casting a scathing glance at Ryuu, "I won't sue or slash his tires. But young man, I expect a check tomorrow! The pansies cost –" she thought fast and vastly inflated the price, because she could, "– fifty dollars. Make it out to Shashi Prince, or have your friends give me cash from you."

She said "friends" as if it was synonymous with "inferior swine", but Ryuu nodded quickly and assured her, "Of course. I'll give it to 'em tomorrow if you're not home when I come back. And thanks for being understanding, uh… Tenou, wasn't it?"

"Yes, I'm Tenou," he smiled. "What's your name?"

"I'm Nathan. Nathan Ryuu," the pansy-killing miscreant said happily, standing up and offering a hand to shake as Shashi rolled her eyes. Tenou was nice to a fault, which would get him into trouble one of these days.

"Are you their younger brother?" that sweet-natured person was asking Ryuu, indicating the waving Seiryuu and the still-glaring Hakuryuu with a nod of his head. "They seem nice. I see them in the yard, and they offered to have me over for –"

"Tenou, you don't need to go over there," Shashi snapped, cutting Ryuu's answer off. "What could they possibly have there that we don't have here?"

"I just wanted to socialize," Tenou explained, "and they seem really –"

"They're a bad influence," she insisted, "and what's up with two young, currently open-shirted men living together?"

It was… suspicious. Very suspicious, and she wanted her son far away from such potential deviancy. Maybe they really weren't related at all?

"Oh, Haku and Sei are brothers," Ryuu explained, "and it's warm out! Anyway dude, no, I'm their cousin. We hang out all the time, and once they get the music room set up, we can all –"

"Tenou dear, are you chatting to avoid calculus?" Shashi interrupted, uninterested in what Ryuu was about to say. No doubt it was "blast our lewd rock CDs so loud your mom's windows will shatter", or maybe "make ear-bleeding sounds and smash our guitars when we're done."

"I have one more problem to do," Tenou replied, a bit of a huffy tone to his voice. "And it's easy. Mother, I'm just trying to be nice! That's not a bad thing, you know."

She thought it was, if the recipient of such kindness was a thug who'd vandalized her garden. "Tenou, please, go finish your homework. Nathan," she snapped, turning to Ryuu, "that apology is acceptable. Now if I don't see that check tomorrow, I'll call your cousins and make them make you give it to me, understand?"

"Yeah," Ryuu nodded, somewhat annoyed that he couldn't talk to his new friend. "I'll do it, I said I would. Bye, Tenou," he finished, waving and turning to go. "See you around."

"Bye Nathan," Tenou replied, turning to go himself. "Have a good day."

As her son went back upstairs to wrestle with calculus, Shashi glared at Ryuu's back as he strode over to his cousins, both of which were waving at her now. But she didn't wave back, because she didn't trust either of them, so what if Hakuryuu had insisted on Ryuu taking responsibility for his mistake?

"Shashi," Hakuryuu called, smiling to beat the band, "would you like to come over and have some lemonade? I just finished making some."

"No thank you," she replied, not smiling at all. "I have my own lemonade. Goodbye." And with that, she shut her door with a near-slam.

Seiryuu blinked at it, and asked Ryuu, "Didn't she accept your apology? I mean, you were on your knees, even. And was that her son? He at least was smiling at you, and I saw the two of you shake hands."

"Yeah she did but she's still pissed, yeah he is and his name is Tenou," Ryuu answered, looking at the ex-pansies with a guilty expression on his face. "He seems really nice, and I think you should have him over. Maybe he can hear us play! He might like that."

"She's still upset?" Seiryuu asked, then rolled his eyes heavenwards and continued, "It was a frickin' row of plants, not a pet or anything. I mean, yeah it was irresponsible, but you're gonna pay her back and everything. Lighten up, Shashi."

Hakuryuu cast a disappointed eye at Shashi's locked front door, and sighed, "You know Sei… I'm beginning to think she doesn't like us."

.

.

(AN: Good ol' Ryuu… gotta love him. And his cousins, who I really wish we'd seen more of in the manga. It's rather hard writing two guys you don't see much of, but I did my best to keep them in character.

Hmm, the theme of annoying neighbors seems to be running through this fic, even though the Ryuu clan is actually made up of decent people, Shashi is just bitchy. But you'll see more of them than Bishamonten's neighbors, all right!

So sorry about the lack of Ashura as Yasha's adopted son, or ward, or whatever. Since nobody important actually dies in this AU, Lord Ashura gets to live and have the kid he wanted above [and at the possible expense of] everything else. I've never written the guy before, so how'd I do?

In the next hopefully amusing chapter, we'll see Taishakuten and his Senior VPs go out to dinner with Shashi and Tenou, with associated wives, and in Koumokuten's case daughter as well.

That's right… prepare for teenaged Tamara. Uh-oh. I find her annoying and mean-spirited, but she is amusing to write.)


	6. Breadsticks

_In which Koumokuten's family makes an appearance_

.

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"Gentlemen," Taishakuten said in one of those morning briefings, "I've decided that we're all about due for another dinner together. Le Maison Jeanne-Claudette, I think, will do nicely."

It was now May, and things had been rolling along nicely… well, pretty nicely. Bishamonten and Kisshouten were still on edge, Zouchouten still hadn't made Karura notice him, and Koumokuten was still the poster child for "Pleasure Before Work". But other than that, things were good.

"Ooh, I love Le Maison Jeanne-Claudette," Koumokuten replied happily, a dorky expression on his face. "That's the first place I took my beloved –"

"When, sir?" Bishamonten asked hastily, cutting off his friend's reminiscing. "And are our families invited this time as well?"

"Yes indeed," Taishakuten told him. "Shashi and Tenou will be accompanying me, so it's only fitting that your spouses and in Xavier's case offspring be present too. Aaron," he smirked, turning to Zouchouten, "we'll just have you sit next to Tenou, or something, if you can't come up with a date."

"That would be lovely," Zouchouten said rather stiffly, as Karura gave him more coffee. "I like kids. Er… Xavier, don't look at me like that!"

Koumokuten was eyeing him knowingly, tilting his head slightly towards Karura with a half-smile on his lips. Zouchouten just glared at him and muttered, "Thanks, Ellen. Reginald," he said somewhat desperately, "I haven't seen Kisshouten for a while. How is she?"

"Oh, she's perfectly fine," Bishamonten replied, completely clueless to the fact that she was at that minute squeezing a stress ball so hard it popped. "A little short now and then, but ultimately doing very well."

"Anyway, I think we should schedule this dinner for… well, how does two weeks from Sunday sound, at seven in the evening?" Taishakuten suggested, and all four of them pulled out their palm pilots. "If not, how about the week after that? Shashi and Tenou are available on both dates, and tend not to do too much on Sunday evenings."

Bishamonten couldn't help but recall lazy Sunday evenings with Shashi. Sure they'd gone out now and again, but Sunday was the day of relaxation. Not out of a religious, Bible-quoting worldview, but because the weekdays were so busy and Saturday was the socializing day. Sundays were the days for doing yardwork and things around the house, and then kicking back and having heartfelt talks, or sex. Or both.

"Sure, the first one works for me," Zouchouten was saying as Bishamonten recalled Fundays. "I'm interested in meeting Tenou."

"Me too, to both of those," Koumokuten added. "Maybe he and Tamara will be friends. She's such a friendly person," he bragged, unintentionally lying. Tamara was only friendly if she wanted something from or was scared of you, but her dad thought she was an angel.

"Yes, I can make Sunday the fifteenth," Bishamonten said in turn. "Kisshouten can too, unless something came up just today that I don't know about yet. And I'd like to see Tenou again. He's a very _together _young man, from what I've observed," he told the other two.

"He is," Souma said, making them all turn to look at her in surprise. She usually stayed in the background of these briefings, a quiet, black-clad presence who always knew just what was needed, when it was needed. Just like Yasha, really, and Karura too, now that Bishamonten thought about it. Minus the black-clad part for the last two.

"I've met him before," Souma continued, "and he seems to be a capable, intelligent person."

"Then he and Tamara should get along swimmingly," Koumokuten decided. "She's a capable and intelligent person too! I'll bet she'll be eager to come to _this _dinner if I tell her she'll make a friend."

Tamara tended not to be too fond of her dad's work associates. After all, they were just older guys who didn't know how to take a break. Now, had they been sexy men just a little older than her it would have been a different story, although she _did _once tell a friend, "Reginald's a hottie, but he's kinda married. Plus Daddy would blow a blood vessel, so never mind. And Mr. Taishakuten is, like, slasher scary, even though he's hot too."

The meeting went on, and ended. Bishamonten's day at work continued, and also ended. Finally, when he got home, he told Kisshouten, "Lotus, we've been invited out to dinner with Taishakuten, Aaron, and Xavier on the fifteenth. Taishakuten's girlfriend and her son are going to be there as well."

"Is Xavier's family going to be present too?" Kisshouten asked a bit resignedly. She didn't like them, not one bit. She didn't _hate _them like she hated Taishakuten, but the days when she'd thought Tamara was a doll were long gone.

"Yes, but surely you can just talk to Aaron," Bishamonten suggested. "You like him. And you'll probably like Shashi and Tenou. I do, after all."

Kisshouten nodded and replied, "Well, that's encouraging. Where is this dinner?"

"Le Maison Jeanne-Claudette," he informed her. "So not _extremely_ fancy formalwear like the Oscars, but certainly something classy, like that white dress you recently bought."

Le Maison Jeanne-Claudette was _the _French restaurant in Zenmi. It was one of those snooty places that fed you snails and made you pay a ridiculous price for doing so, and if you didn't have a reservation you were screwed. Lesser mortals had to book a month in advance, but wealthy CEOs got to bypass the line and book merely two weeks ahead.

Bishamonten and Kisshouten had dined there often, and they liked it. The food _was _excellent, with a collector's-caliber wine selection, and the restaurant itself was beautiful and featured tuxedo-clad waiters. Often one might see a celebrity or important politician chowing down on caviar, or if you were lucky, you could watch the maitre d' deny an underdressed peasant a table.

.

The next Tuesday found Bishamonten strolling "casually" around the skyscraper, checking in on people. This was part of his job as Taishakuten's "spymaster": popping in unannounced sometimes netted him interesting information, not to mention it kept people on track.

And it was such a lovely feeling when workers jumped, grinned nervously, and immediately kowtowed to him. And babbled things like, "I wasn't slacking off! I was just taking a break. Look, I'm working hard! See how hard I'm working, Mr. Bishamonten sir?"

"I don't know, Steven," he'd murmur, "you don't look very dedicated to me. Maybe you should skip your lunch break, or I might think you're fooling around on the clock."

"What a great idea, sir," they'd say quickly. "I think I'll skip lunch today, like you said. I'm a hard worker! Truly."

Ha. Making the peons slave away was always amusing, he thought as he walked towards Zouchouten's office. And sometimes he walked in (he never knocked) right in the middle of a complaint about a manager or executive, which often resulted in a hasty disclaimer of "Or so Bob says, anyway. That's what I hear."

As he popped into Zouchouten's office, he wondered what he would find. Would Zouchouten be A: on the phone and drinking coffee, B: on his computer and drinking coffee, or C: signing papers and drinking coffee?

This time, he was on his computer, chugging down coffee. Sigh. The man's blood was probably brown and caffeinated by this point, Bishamonten thought as Zouchouten and Karura looked up at his entrance.

"Hello Reginald," Zouchouten greeted. "Checking to make sure I'm working, huh?"

"Indeed," Bishamonten assented, smirking a bit. "I'm pleased to see that you are. Unlike our good friend Xavier sometimes."

"He needs to have his phone shipped to Bora Bora," Karura muttered, crossing her arms. "Mr. Bishamonten, you're Mr. Taishakuten's closest confidant, can't you suggest something like that?"

Bishamonten smirked some more. Oh yes, it was wonderful when the rank and file acknowledged his power! "Taishakuten will deal with Xavier as he sees fit," he replied, secretly hoping for the Bora Bora scenario sooner rather than later.

"Aaron," he continued pleasantly, "I've seen the new laptop prototype you've been working on, and for the most part I'm impressed. It should knock any rival laptops out of the running. How long do you think it'll be before you've worked the bugs out for the presentation?"

"It should only be a couple of months," Zouchouten smiled. "There's this issue of it dimming drastically in bright light, which obviously isn't good. I mean, who wants to have to fiddle with settings whenever you're outside on a sunny day?"

"Not me," Bishamonten agreed. He then turned to Karura and complimented, "You look nice today, Ellen. You're wearing different lipstick, if I'm correct."

"Yes," she returned, looking a bit guarded. "I like it."

Bishamonten waited for Zouchouten to jump in with, "I like it too, Ellen! I notice your lips so much more now. They're beautiful, just like the rest of you, and will you please come over here and give me a kiss? Then we can go out to dinner. Marry me, Ellen Karura."

But he wasn't holding his breath for that. Zouchouten was kind of a private and often cautious person in his dealings with others, and for him to say what Bishamonten was hoping for, with Bishamonten in the room, might have taken alcohol or some sort of drug. Or a gun pointed at his temple, whichever.

So when Zouchouten murmured, "Ellen, may I have some more coffee please?" the other man wasn't surprised in the least. Oh well, there was always that hope that they'd meet up in the community somewhere and end up getting coffee, which might lead to an invitation to dinner. Maybe.

Bishamonten sighed ever so quietly, and left to continue his rounds. Next up? Good ol' Koumokuten, who actually was a very competent and downright ruthless executive when he wasn't thinking of his wife.

And indeed, he was being ruthless as Bishamonten walked in. He was snarling, "Shia, that presentation was useless! No more jokes during pitches, moron. You never make anyone laugh, because they suck cock. And if I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times: don't assume the audience is your friend! They are your _enemy!_

"You need to view them as stubborn cattle, ones that have to be prodded with electricity into agreeing to sign on with us. You need to make them fear for their livelihoods if they don't join us. You need to bully them into agreeing with you!"

"So true," Bishamonten agreed, making Koumokuten whip around from the sniffling employee he'd been chastising. "Xavier is completely correct."

"Like he said," Vahyu chipped in, poking his head around a corner. "Hi Reginald! What brings you here?" he flirted, smiling his perfect smile and tossing his perfect hair. What a manslut.

As Shia blubbered out an apology and a vow to improve, Koumokuten answered for Bishamonten: "He's here to poke around, Charles. But see Reginald, we work hard here in Marketing. Nose to the grindstone, right Shia?" he barked, with no sense of irony at all.

The browbeaten man nodded quickly. Indeed, Marketing employees who weren't the VP worked like slaves, with Koumokuten holding the whip and roaring exhortations to work even harder.

So Shia agreed, "Yessir! We work very hard here, Mr. Bishamonten sir! In fact, I'll go do some hard work right now!"

As Shia ran back to the safety of his cubicle, Koumokuten turned back to Bishamonten and bragged, "You'll be pleased to know that we've just decided on our theme for the Scimitar ad campaign."

The Scimitar… the smartphone to end all smartphones. You could text, surf online, store videos, email, and basically do pretty much anything but cook your food and water your garden with it. It had GPS, it had tons of options, and it was going to make Tenkai Corporation gazillions, if its creator Harold Kumaraten was correct.

"Reginald," Koumokuten grinned, "this latest idea is fantastic, because –"

"Lord almighty, Ah feel mah temperature risin' – Higher an' higher, it's burnin' through to mah soul," Elvis Presley sang from Koumokuten's pocket, making Bishamonten roll his eyes and Vahyu blink in surprise. "Burning Love"? Last time that ringtone was "Every Breath You Take" by The Police.

Completely ignoring his Ad Manager and his boss, Koumokuten grabbed his phone and greeted, "Hi honey! What's up?"

Ignoring the dunce, Bishamonten turned back to Vahyu and snapped, "Charles, please finish what Xavier was about to tell me before he got distracted. This latest idea is fantastic because…?"

"Ooh, it's great," Vahyu assured him, as Koumokuten yakked in the background. "See, for the Scimitar, we're gonna have… well, guess!"

"Scimitar-wielding warriors might make sense," Bishamonten said cautiously, "but somehow I have the feeling you've bypassed such an, er, obvious theme and gone with something much more… _unique_." Which was code for "completely absurd and avant-garde."

"You're so right," Vahyu replied, looking very pleased with himself. "No, we're going with an idea straight from Mr. Koumokuten himself! See, we start out with a happy little medieval village. But then, a hail of flaming arrows comes down and ignites all the houses! As people run screaming in the background, we cut to an actress who pulls out her Verizon piece of junk.

"But oh no!" he continued, scarily into this, "She doesn't have enough bars to call for help! Then we pan to a mounted army in full gallop, all of which are holding up _our _phone and grinning. The army runs right over the lady with the rival phone, and proceeds to raze the village to the ground.

"And then, we have Katy Perry pop up and sigh, 'If only they'd had the Scimitar. With 4G, blah blah blah blah, all its features, the Scimitar: a smartphone for those of us who are too smart to die like that'."

Bishamonten stared openmouthed for a few moments, unable to summon anything nice to say. As he wondered which biting comment to verbalize, Koumokuten was sighing, "Well, tell Principal Dawson that if he says that again, I'll come down there and shove his toupee down his throat."

Vahyu prompted, "Isn't that a genius idea, sir? We're having a little trouble getting Katy, but I'm sure that it'll all be ironed out soon. Personally, I think we should have a hard rock soundtrack too."

"That is a completely ridiculous and needlessly violent idea," Bishamonten snapped. "They didn't have phones in the Dark Ages, and even if she called for help it wouldn't save them. Perhaps if you took the humor route, but this sounds deadly serious!"

"Reginald," Vahyu smiled indulgently, "you just don't have a Marketing mind. You're a genius at Expansion, but leave the rest to us. We know what we're doing, trust me."

Bishamonten rolled his eyes again, turned to go, and thought, _You know, Taishakuten will probably be very pleased by that stupid idea, damn it. He likes war so much, and will undoubtedly praise Xavier for such an asinine premise._

.

As Bishamonten checked in on people, Yasha headed to the CEO's office. Not to see Taishakuten, but to see the secretary on duty.

Yasha was one of the few people who could tell Hanranya and Kuyou apart without watching them interact with Taishakuten; Kuyou smiled more and had slightly different glasses, not to mention that Hanranya only ever wore pearl earrings while her sister switched it up.

And today Kuyou was present, which he wasn't surprised by in the least. He knew her schedule, because she'd been nice enough to email it to him. He liked her much, much better than Hanranya, who he thought was a bit of a loony for adoring Taishakuten.

"Kuyou," he smiled as he came in sight of the receptionist's desk, "I brought a little gift for your cats." She and he were fast friends, and often had long talks in the cafeteria over how Taishakuten should bite the dust.

For you see, Yasha hated that man too. He thought (and he was completely correct) that the CEO was far too aggressive in his dealings with the world, far too punitive in his dealings with his underlings, and far too cruel to be liked by anyone but Bishamonten, Ashuraou, Hanranya, and now Shashi and Tenou. Perhaps they were all secret disciples of Machiavelli?

Oh, Koumokuten and Zouchouten obeyed their highest boss, and admired him, but they didn't _like _him. It was Yasha's personal opinion that anyone who did needed a lobotomy. After hearing that one, Kujaku had grinned, "Ooh, I'm telling! Reginald will explode after he learns you said that."

Yasha had immediately put Kujaku into a headlock, and refused to let him go until he swore not to tell.

Anyway, Kuyou liked Yasha and Yasha liked her back. They'd been pals since the day he was hired, and visited each other at home, gave each other birthday gifts, and sighed, "Don't be dumb," whenever anyone asked if there was some romantic tension there.

"Thank you James," she said now, accepting the large packet of premium uppers for felines (catnip). "I'll make sure to give it to them tonight, and tell them it's from you. Not that they'll understand that," she added with a rueful smile.

"I heard rumors that you're thinking about getting a third," he said conversationally. "Male or female?"

"Oh, I thought about getting another male and naming him 'Karl'," she said seriously, "but then I realized that Wanda has a hard enough time with Waldo, and they're siblings. A new cat might really make the fur fly, if you'll pardon my awful joke."

"Okay, I will," Yasha said matter-of-factly. "Kuyou, has Nina told you that Taishakuten's getting serious with this Prince woman? That's what she told me the other day. He keeps taking her out for dinners, and now he's taking his Senior VPs, their families, and Dr. Prince and her son to _Le Maison Jeanne-Claudette_."

"Oh dear," she sighed, sounding rather upset. "That man shouldn't be allowed to have fun. I think Dr. Prince should run, personally. But then again, she seems to be rather similar to him in temperament. For example –"

"James? What are you doing chatting with Ms. Seering?" Bishamonten's annoyed voice came from the doorway, and they both jumped guiltily.

Yasha turned quickly as Kuyou pretended to be cleaning her glasses, and Bishamonten arched a perfect, winged eyebrow in that infuriatingly condescending way he had. Kuyou thought he needed to be taken down a couple pegs, and in all honesty lumped him together with Taishakuten in her mind: Taishakuten Main and Taishakuten Extension.

"I was just giving Kuyou something for her cats, sir," Yasha replied, as casually as he could. Gossiping about the big boss? Why, never! It was totally all about the catnip. For real.

"Does she have it now?" Bishamonten asked, crossing his arms.

"Yes," she replied, "and thank you, James. They'll love it. I'm just going to, um…"

"If you've received James's gift, then there's no reason for him to still be standing here," Bishamonten snapped. "James, go print out my speech for the meeting tomorrow. Kuyou, get back to whatever you were doing."

He watched smugly as Yasha turned a bit red, muttered an apology, and left. Kuyou forced a smile, summoned a pleasant, "Did you need something, sir?" and mentally pulled Bishamonten's ponytail. Really hard.

"I've accomplished my purpose for being here," he smirked, heading back to the door. "Remember not to slack off, Ms. Seering."

Oh, that Kuyou… always trying to undermine Taishakuten's power in some way, he sighed as he drove home that night. He often thought that there had to be a story behind why she stayed as his secretary, one that maybe involved some sort of blackmail. Perhaps she'd murdered a cubicle dweller, and Taishakuten had that knowledge and all the power?

No, that was stupid. But clearly, there was something odd about that woman.

"Lotus," he sighed that night, "you've met Kuyou Seering. Don't you think there's something… off about her? She's hard to understand."

Kisshouten frowned and replied, "I like her, Reginald. I feel very sorry for her, trapped in that job with Taishakuten as a boss. I know you like him," she nearly snapped, before he could say it, "but I, and a lot of other people, do not like him at all."

"Kisshouten," he snapped back, "don't insult him. And I certainly hope that you won't be rude at that dinner next Sunday."

"When have I ever been rude to him?" she pointed out, a tad angrily. "I've never said a word to his face, Reginald, and believe me, if you were able to hear some of the things I call him in my mind and never verbalize, you'd be shocked. But I'm not someone who insults people willy-nilly, especially not if they're my husband's boss."

"Good," he replied curtly, then soothed it by giving her a kiss on the cheek and smiling, "I appreciate that, lotus. I do."

And so, when Sunday the fifteenth rolled around, Kisshouten was all smiles, clad in a fabulous white dress with her hair piled on top of her head for that "exotic queen" look. She left part of her hair down, and it fell past her rear in waves that just made you want to _touch _it.

Bishamonten did just that, because he could. Running a long lock through his fingers, he murmured, "You look wonderful, Kisshouten. I like that dress."

"So do I," she told him with a smile, giving him a quick kiss. "You look wonderful too," she continued when she'd finished with that.

Yes indeed, he did. Bishamonten was one of those men who looked great in swim trunks, great in casual clothes, even better in a suit, and drop-dead gorgeous in a tux. It was a gift, he thought proudly as they locked their back door and headed for the garage. Some men looked awful in a tuxedo, like poor Varuna.

He'd seen Varuna in formalwear only once, at a wedding. Koumokuten's hapless assistant had been completely ill at ease, which didn't help his appearance. Of course, he _had _been sitting next to Vahyu, which would make most men look bad in comparison. Vahyu, as he would tell anyone who would listen, often got model offers from talent scouts on the street.

But joy of joys, Vahyu wouldn't be at the restaurant, so Bishamonten could shine all the more. He'd of course share the spotlight with Taishakuten, who was also gorgeous in a tux, but Koumokuten and Zouchouten would have to console themselves with fancy food. And interesting conversation, mostly thanks to Taishakuten, who liked having people listen attentively.

Bishamonten wondered, as he drove to the restaurant, how everyone would get along with each other, and whether there would be any sullen silences or sharp words exchanged. After all, not everybody was friends, and you never knew when someone would bring up a topic that lent itself to violent outbursts.

Taishakuten had passed out "What You Need To Know" sheets on Shashi and Tenou to his triad of top executives, possibly in the hope of averting just such a conflict. Bishamonten had learned that Tenou was musically inclined, liked animals, and wanted to be a pediatrician.

He had read Shashi's info too, although none of it surprised him. He already knew that she liked to read, enjoyed watching plays, and was "a connoisseur of fine jewelry" (his heart had twinged a bit at that last one). And that she used to be an actress, which he just _knew _Koumokuten and Zouchouten would use as ammo in the war against "the gold-digging siren", as Zouchouten had once said to Koumokuten.

He chanced a look over at Kisshouten, and sent a little prayer to anything that would listen that nothing awkward would come up that involved past lovers.

.

Shashi admired herself in her full-length mirror. Perfect hair, perfect makeup, perfect dress (blush pink with a daring neckline and curve-hugging fit), perfect shoes, perfect jewelry… perfection, period.

She'd win the contest of "Most Beautiful Squeeze", she was sure. Who could beat Shashi "Model Material" Prince? …Well, besides Halle Berry, who wouldn't be there, ha.

Yes, she would win over Koumokuten's wife, and make Bishamonten's wife pout in sore loser…ship. Sore losership? Was that even a word? Well, anyway, she would show up all the other women, and she liked showing up other women. And men, in the professional or social fields.

Maybe Bishamonten's wife would be fat, to make her victory sweeter. Maybe she'd be whiny, that would be great. Or maybe she'd be incredibly boring, which would make everyone so annoyed with her that they'd all hang on Shashi's every witty word. Maybe her husband's eyes would pop out when he saw Shashi in her –

Whoops.

_Remember the vow, Shashi? The vow to leave it alone? The one that's so very important for the future?_

_I remember, _she huffed to that stupid internal voice. _But surely you agree that it would be nice to make him stare when his wife's a pudgy, whiny, boring ball and chain, right? Just for, um, fun. Pure fun. Really._

"Mother?" Tenou's voice came from outside her door. "I'm ready. Didn't you say we had to make sure to be on time?"

"Very true, Tenou dear," she replied, opening the door, then nearly cooing, "Oh honey, don't you look so dashing!"

Tenou turned slightly pink. He hated wearing suits, and this one was a tux, darn it to heck. He personally wished Taishakuten had offered to take them all to Burger King, and he could get away with wearing jeans and a t-shirt. But nope… they were off to Le Maison Jeanne-Claudette instead.

On the drive there, he wondered if Taishakuten's other VPs would be similar to Bishamonten. Bishamonten seemed nice enough, and polite too. Perhaps the other two would be like him, although Tenou had observed his mother get a rather sneering look on her face when they were mentioned. What was up with that?

Oh well, Taishakuten would be there. Tenou was, to be totally honest, in awe of that man. Taishakuten was handsome, very smart, incredibly powerful, and rich, rich, rich. And mean, mean, mean to his underlings and enemies. But he was nice to the teenager, and once gave him a gift of a new iPod, one that could hold thousands upon thousands upon thousands of songs. Cool.

Tenou was aware that such a gift, to Taishakuten, cost next to nothing, but it was still nice. And to Tenou, it was the _principle _of the thing. He'd made sure to write a thank-you note immediately after he'd received it, which Taishakuten was pleased by. After all, thank-you notes were a lost art to the majority of the current teenage generation.

When they arrived, they were ushered to their table by a woman in a tuxedo, which Tenou thought was neat. Equal rights in formalwear! And what awful person would make a hostess wear a ball gown to work?

"Three of your party are already seated," she informed them brightly. "Am I correct in recalling that there will be four more?"

"Yes," Shashi replied, catching sight of Taishakuten's iconic hair. He was seated at the head of the table, naturally, with his redheaded second-in-command occupying the spot on his right. Somehow, this wasn't a surprise to her at all.

"Ah, Shashi. And Tenou," he smiled, rising to greet them with a kiss on the cheek (Shashi) and pat on the shoulder (Tenou). "You of course already know Reginald, but I don't think either of you has met his lovely wife, Kisshouten."

Shashi gave the lovely wife an appraising look, and had to admit that Bishamonten had chosen well. The artist was tall, curvy, with incredibly long black hair that was wavy and glossy, and eyes that matched her husband's in nice lashes and pretty black irises. Damn it all, they probably gazed into each other's eyes and saw their love reflected there, or something to that effect.

Kisshouten immediately smiled, and proceeded to be fantastic some more. "It's so nice to meet you, Shashi. May I call you 'Shashi', or would you prefer 'Dr. Prince'?" she asked politely, extending an elegant hand to shake.

"Oh, Shashi's fine," the doctor smiled back, having regained her own sense of perfection. So what if Kisshouten was taller? Tall women got weird looks sometimes. And Shashi knew she was gorgeous as well, and her eyes were nice too. And she had fancier earrings, so there!

"Arthur tells me you're an artist, Kisshouten," she murmured as she took her seat on Taishakuten's left side, which just so happened to put her right across from Bishamonten. As memories of playing footsie in romantic restaurants swam unbidden into her mind, Kisshouten replied, "Yes, I'm a painter. I do my best work in oils, I think."

"She's a brilliant artist," Bishamonten smiled, sounding ever so proud of his wife. "She's won numerous awards. I have some of her work in my office, and I get compliments on it all the time."

"Yes, Kisshouten is skilled," Taishakuten agreed. "I quite like 'God General', her full-body portrait of Reginald in Indian-inspired armor. It's a very compelling piece, wouldn't you agree, Reginald? And Kisshouten, of course?"

"I just like its subject," Kisshouten smiled, reaching out and taking Bishamonten's hand. "He makes a wonderful muse. Do you know, before we got married, I used to find myself sketching him when I was trying to sketch someone or something else? I had Reginald on the brain," she laughed.

Bishamonten laughed back, "And I found myself writing the name 'Kisshouten' when I was trying to write something else. Clearly I had it just as bad."

Shashi was in a bit of a quandary. On the one hand… her immediate, gut reaction was to think, _Bitch. He used to have me on the brain, before you came along_. On the other hand… what a nice person, she could tell that already. On the third hand… the vow! So she went with "what a nice person".

"Kisshouten," she said pleasantly, "I'm so impressed by all that. I can't even draw a straight line."

"Oh, hardly anyone can without a straightedge," the other woman assured her. "It's incredibly difficult. And really, straight lines usually only occur in architecture, lettering, furniture, machines, and certain odd geological formations. Even stripes on clothes curve with the body and folds."

"I never thought of it that way," Shashi admitted, and Tenou chipped in with, "My art teacher always says to concentrate on the overall scheme, not little details. So if the lines aren't totally straight, it's okay. For beginners, anyway," he amended.

As Kisshouten and Tenou got into a discussion on the myriad difficulties of still lifes, Shashi couldn't help but notice that Bishamonten was still holding his wife's hand. And just for that perfect touch, she also noticed a certain song on the sound system:

"I heard that your dreams came true," Adele crooned, "guess she gave you things I didn't give to you –"

Shashi frowned at a rose bush out the window. Songs should be background noise, not speaking to innocent restaurant patrons. She almost wished for Muzak right now.

_Thanks, you stupid singer, for making my night just that much more difficult. Go jump off a balcony, Adele._

Kisshouten gave her a quizzical look and asked, "Dr. Prince, is something wrong?"

Shashi smiled quickly, suddenly called upon to utilize her skill in acting. "I was just thinking of a thorny problem with one of my patients. She has unusual symptoms," she lied, straight-faced and expertly. She wasn't about to say, "I'm jealous and want to spill wine on your dress, which of course fits perfectly."

"Shashi dear," Taishakuten almost pleaded, "let's not talk shop, hmm? Hardly appropriate dinner conversation."

He caught sight of Zouchouten, who was being escorted over, and smiled, "Ah, Aaron's here!"

He sounded relieved, and Bishamonten rolled his eyes when he wasn't looking. Shashi wasn't the type of person to regale dining partners with blow-by-blow accounts of pelvic examinations, honestly.

Zouchouten smiled as he pulled out the chair next to Tenou. "Hello. I'm Aaron Zouchouten, how lovely to meet you," he greeted.

Tenou smiled back and replied, "Hi, I'm Tenou. Nice to meet you too."

They shook hands, Taishakuten smiling benevolently and Shashi a bit forcedly as they watched. She still disliked Zouchouten, mostly because he disliked her. And from what Taishakuten had said he was buddy-buddy with that terrible –

"Xavier's on his way in," Zouchouten informed the table, unfolding his napkin. "He was right behind me."

Tenou turned around just as Koumokuten swooped over to them, passing the waiter as his wife smirked and his daughter lit up at the sight of an attractive teenage boy. His wife strutted after him like a conquering queen, and his daughter hurried to keep up with the adults.

Bishamonten studied the three of them. Tamara had black hair like her father, but everything else was luckily inherited from her mother. Today she was wearing a dress so tight Bishamonten was surprised her dad let her out of the house in that.

_Well_, he decided rather resignedly, _just_ _look_ _at_ _what_ _his_ _wife's_ _wearing_.

Mrs. Koumokuten was clad in gold-colored stilettos and an orange dress that should have been illegal, it was so clingy. A gold necklace that might have fed a small Third-World city for a year if it was auctioned adorned her neck, and she had gold bangles and huge matching earrings as well.

Yes, Aguni liked gold. "It reminds me of fire," Bishamonten had once heard her tell Kisshouten happily.

"Honey," Koumokuten smiled, "why don't you be the one who sits next to Aaron. He gets so lonely all by himself at these things. We'll be nice and make him feel less solitary, right my fiery angel?"

Aguni grinned at Zouchouten, whose eyes narrowed a bit. And dear God, that woman's dress had a flame pattern. Somehow, Bishamonten sighed, he should have expected that.

Aguni was Koumokuten's second wife; Melissa had slipped on soapy water in her kitchen when her daughter was ten, and hit her head on the corner of the granite counter. Bishamonten had always had the sneaking suspicion that her husband had spilled that water deliberately, but he'd never mentioned it. After all, Koumokuten was an integral part of the company, and if he was sent to prison things might spin out of control.

And maybe he'd been researching dish soaps online and grinning evilly a month before for a completely innocent reason. Bishamonten didn't really believe that, but it was how he justified his silence on the matter. And truly, Melissa had been such a terror.

Of course… Aguni was worse. The head phys ed. teacher at a posh private high school, she was a drill sergeant with giant earrings. Tamara had thrown a shrieking fit two years ago when Aguni had smiled like a carnivore and told her, "You'll be able to call me 'Mom' soon, dear. Now stop faking leg cramps."

Koumokuten had immediately transferred his daughter to a different prep school, and announced over the company intercom that he was engaged to "a woman with fire in her soul". Thankfully, by now the two females had come to a truce.

But Bishamonten still didn't like either of them. He and Zouchouten liked their executive counterpart a lot, but most social gatherings with Tamara and Aguni necessitated a session of whining and unwinding later while Koumokuten was somewhere else. Zouchouten would mutter something like, "I hope I never have a child like that," and Bishamonten would brag, "_My _wife is an elegant blossom."

And he could tell that today was going to be an ordeal, as Tamara was staring at Tenou like he was manna from Heaven and she was a wandering Israelite.

"Hi," she breathed, fluttering her lashes and pushing her chest ever so slightly forward. "My name is Tamara."

Tenou seemed a bit nervous, but he was such a polite young man that he'd never dream of being rude. So he smiled and replied, "My name's Tenou." He indicated Shashi and continued, "This is my mother, Dr. Shashi Prince."

Shashi nodded perfunctorily at Tamara and stared up at the Amazon in the flame dress. Good God, that woman looked like she could bounce a man like a basketball.

Aguni smiled that scary smile as she pulled her chair out and sat, murmuring, "I'm Aguni." She gave Tamara a sharp glance and ordered, "Sit down. That waiter's trying to bring the dessert cart through."

Tamara obeyed, her eyes locked on Tenou. Koumokuten, having sat down as well, took a breadstick just as Zouchouten was reaching for it, saying, "So… Reginald, you must feel a little more normal now, with another person in the world with hair like yours." He smiled at Tenou as ingratiatingly as he could.

Zouchouten gave Koumokuten a look as Bishamonten frowned slightly and replied, "My father's entire side of the family has hair like mine. It's not that uncommon, and I see people on the street with it occasionally."

"Don't be mean, Daddy," Tamara scolded. "I think it _works _for Tenou." Meaning, by inference, that it didn't work for him, Bishamonten thought in offended anger.

Before Shashi could conjure up a vision of Koumokuten slapping her on the back and crowing, "The grandkids like me better!" the waiter arrived. There was an immediate flurry of drink orders, then a period of small talk about Taishakuten's search for a new mansion. ("Why yes, bigger is better. If only the US had castles.")

By the time everyone had figured out what they wanted to eat, Tenou's expression resembled that of a man trapped by a tiger who kept flirting with him. Tamara had fallen in adolescent love, and Bishamonten felt incredibly sorry for Shashi's poor son.

"Tenou," he cut in, "why don't you tell us about –"

"Reginald," Taishakuten overrode him, "I think I've waited on this waiter long enough."

It had been less than a minute since he'd decided what he wanted to eat, but CEOs were gods, after all. So he raised his hand, and a waiter appeared immediately. Taishakuten had a gift for making people obey him.

"I will have," he informed the waiter imperiously, "the veal oscar. And do put extra spices on it, my good man."

Once everyone else had ordered their various overpriced meals, Bishamonten was finally able to complete his sentence. "Tenou," he said with a smile, "why don't you tell us about your hobbies."

Tenou brightened up. Clearly, he was passionate about his chosen ways to spend time and money.

"Well, I love books," he said enthusiastically. "Right now, I'm reading a biography of Simon Wiesenthal, the famous Nazi-hunter. He was really an amazing man, you have no idea."

"I love books _too!_" Tamara chimed in, lying through her teeth. "That one sounds just _fascinating._"

"And I love music. I know how to play the guitar, plus the flute," Tenou told everyone proudly. "I've taken music lessons since I was old enough to remember."

"You play the flute?" Zouchouten beamed. "So do I."

Dead, stunned silence around the table, and he _dared _anyone to comment on his choice of instrument with a lowering of dark, wild brows. Who said big scary men couldn't play such a beautiful instrument? They were all just too accepting of stereotypes.

Shashi, getting an awful feeling again, tried to derail this train. "Well," she said in desperation, "Tenou hasn't played the flute for years, so –"

"Mother, I only stopped because you wanted me to learn guitar," Tenou pointed out, blithe and unaware of the tension between his mother and his new friend. "But now that I know someone else who does, maybe I can get back into it."

"What a wonderful idea, Tenou," Bishamonten murmured, guffawing in his head. "Aaron, you two should get together and play, I don't know, 'Scarborough Fair' or something," he suggested in an innocent tone. "I'm sure it would be very… _ethereal_."

Koumokuten's grin was exceptionally nasty as he agreed, "Yeah… play your little girly instrument Aaron, I'd really like to –"

"Daddy," Tamara huffed, "don't insult Tenou's musical talent!"

She smiled at Tenou, waiting to be praised for defending him. He just flushed a bit and took a drink of water, studiously avoiding her gaze.

Slightly despaired that his daughter had missed who the insult was directed at, Koumokuten snapped, "Tamara, pass me the breadsticks."

As he helped himself to the last two, Shashi fought down a groan. Oh no, now poor naïve Tenou would pal around with that mountain of an executive, and with her luck the neighbors would come over and grin, "Dudes… jam with us!" Then they'd wreck her house because they were thugs, and Zouchouten would grin and assist them because he was a bastard.

"I'm a _singer_," Tamara told her prey in a breathy voice, rolling with the punches and seeing an opportunity to brag. "A first soprano, and my voice coach says I'm on Mariah Carey's level."

"Yes," Aguni smirked, "she can hit those screeching, ear-shattering notes."

Tamara shot her a burning glare and snapped, "Your jealousy is far too transparent, Aguni. You can't carry a tune in a bucket." She made this sound like a crime against humanity, as if her stepmother deserved hanging at the Nuremburg trials.

"Now Princess," Koumokuten jumped in rather desperately, "not everyone is as musically gifted as you are. But Aguni is a natural at kickboxing."

Clearly, he was trying to placate his women, only one of which grinned back at him. Tamara just glared for a second before returning her attention to Tenou. Oh, her dad had been snared by the pyromaniacal harpy, and she often wondered what her mom would have said about that.

"Reginald used to sing quite a bit," Kisshouten smiled, patting her husband's hand as Bishamonten smiled at her in return. "That was how I met him, actually."

Tenou perked up at the chance of a story and escaping Tamara. "How was that?" he asked, a slightly desperate edge to his voice.

Kisshouten smiled at him now, saying, "Well, it was thirteen years ago. I had just finished an exhibition, and a friend of mine said, 'Let's have a drink.' So we went to a little bar, a tavern really, and as I walked in I heard this wonderful voice."

Bishamonten started to flush a bit, because no one in Tenkai Corporation was aware of this embarrassing story. But it was too late to stop it now as Tenou asked, "Were you in the band, Reginald?"

Bishamonten managed, "No," as Koumokuten looked on in acute, almost evil interest and Taishakuten's left eyebrow quirked. "No, I was, um…"

"He was drunk," Kisshouten said fondly, and Zouchouten started to grin evilly too. "He was singing 'Lady In Red' and hoisting an empty beer stein."

As Koumokuten and Zouchouten held back laughter, she continued, "And it was the best rendition of that song I had ever heard. So with my friend Shelby trying to pull me back, I walked over to him and said, 'You have such a wonderful voice.' "

Bishamonten, his face almost as red as his hair, waited for the next part. Oh God, why did she tell this story?

"And he," Kisshouten laughed, "he just blinked at me and asked, 'Was I singing?' "

Zouchouten, Koumokuten, Taishakuten, and Aguni roared with laughter. Tamara tittered, and Tenou gave voice to a peal of mirth. Bishamonten himself took a hasty drink of wine, knowing he'd get teased about this later. Shashi was still and silent.

Kisshouten squeezed her husband's shoulder and apologized, "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I know you're embarrassed. But anyway," she went on, turning back to the table at large, "we ended up exchanging numbers and going out, and getting married."

Tenou smiled, "That's so sweet."

"I think red is such a _lovely _color," Tamara simpered, her eyes locked on his hair. "It's my _favorite._"

Aguni frowned, aware that Tamara threw a fit if her pink clothes were ever put in the wash with her own red ones, because they got, well, closer to red. She was obsessed with pink, and red certainly wasn't her favorite color until a few seconds ago.

"Tamara _dear_," Aguni murmured dangerously, "let him be. I mean it."

"No no, honey, Tamara's just being friendly," Koumokuten chuckled, his "Power play!" smile on his face. He'd figured out that Taishakuten's girlfriend's son was an opportunity waiting to be seized, and how incredibly fortunate that he had a teenaged daughter.

As Koumokuten fantasized about being father-in-law to the CEO's stepson, and all the perks that would come with it, Zouchouten smiled at Tenou and changed the subject with, "So… they said you like fencing. Is this true?"

Tenou nodded fervently, seizing on any chance to escape Tamara's unwanted attentions. "Yes. I'm pretty good at it. My instructor says I have a gift."

He was being modest, as his instructor's actual words had been "Sacre bleu, you 'ave defeated me? I nevair sought I would see zee day when I was bested by a studehnt! You are eencredible!"

"Tenou also," Shashi bragged, "is on the honor roll at school. He's in line for a number of scholarships, right honey?" she coaxed, eager for her child to promote himself and one-up Koumokuten's brat.

Tenou nodded, rather embarrassed, and mumbled, "Yes. I just… I just apply myself, that's all."

Taishakuten beamed, because he was of the opinion that people only failed if they didn't apply themselves. After all, he applied himself and never failed at all. And if he could do it, anyone could, surely.

"That's so true, Tenou. I think we can all agree that application of one's talents is what gets one ahead in life," he said warmly.

Tamara now looked a little put out. Koumokuten noticed, and took the "spoiling my bitchy child" course of action. He took that course of action a lot, to the consternation of his wife and nearly everyone else.

"That's so _very_ true, sir," he fawned. "Why, Tamara was recently given the lead soprano in her school's spring recital, beating out the girl who'd held it for the past two years." He beamed at his offspring, proud that she'd toppled a rival, and praised, "She worked so hard, and now she's the prima donna of Westland Academy. Right sweetie?"

Shashi narrowed her eyes at him before Tamara could reply, and coldly said, "We were talking about _my son. _Stop hogging the limelight for your daughter, Mr. Koumokuten," she ordered in her best "Obey me!" voice.

Koumokuten glared as Tamara pouted, but Aguni grinned and said breezily, "So true, Dr. Prince. Xavier just can't shut up about his little girl."

Shashi had made an ally, a connection with another powerful female personality. She smiled brightly at Aguni and asked, "Does he know what a wonderful wife he has?"

Aguni laughed triumphantly, Shashi joined in, Tenou looked slightly afraid, and Zouchouten now looked like he was contemplating a horrible future where Shashi and Aguni teamed up to make his life miserable. Koumokuten sulked, Tamara twisted her napkin in her hands, Taishakuten chuckled, and Bishamonten and Kisshouten exchanged "Uh-oh" glances.

And indeed, by the time everyone was standing up to go, Shashi had promised Aguni that they would go shopping next weekend. Tamara had tried to weasel her way into coming too, on the chance that she might see Tenou if they stopped at Shashi's house, but Aguni had put her stiletto-clad foot down.

"Nope. You and your dad can watch a movie, or something," she informed her stepdaughter, a general on the battlefield of social games. "Surely he hasn't gotten tired of 'The Texas Chainsaw Massacre' yet."

Zouchouten sighed as he watched Aguni stroll off arm-in-arm with Koumokuten, leaving the sullen Tamara to bring up the rear. "I don't feel good about that," he muttered to Bishamonten.

"Hmm." Bishamonten was clearly thinking of something else.

Zouchouten studied him shrewdly, and then asked, "Why were you singing 'Lady In Red' in that bar?"

Bishamonten watched Shashi head to her car as well, smiling at Tenou, and reluctantly answered, "I was thinking of an old girlfriend."

As Zouchouten put two and two together with very little surprise, Bishamonten turned away abruptly, taking hold of Kisshouten's hand, and changed the subject with, "Have a good night, Aaron."

.

.

(AN: Yup, Koumokuten's scary wife is Aguni. Don't look so surprised, readers, I gave you some pretty big hints earlier!

Why? Besides the giant reason of "I ship it", we never see his nameless manga wife do or say anything in the actual "Rg Veda" storyline. She shows up in an omake to bitch at him, but hey, that omake also contains Zouchouten's "Innocent Cutesy Perfect Really Young Darling" wife, and we can all see what I think of _that._

See, Aguni is an actual character, and as such I feel much more comfortable writing her. I know she's into handsome men, and Koumokuten definitely isn't a handsome man, but dude… that whole "Master" thing is interesting. Yes every Westland god calls him "Master", but c'mon, it's also interesting that he leaves like half his army with Aguni; he clearly trusts her and thinks highly of her skills.

…Oh, who am I kidding? I ship it, that's it in a nutshell. And Shashi will ask why someone who digs handsome men is with Mr. Creepy in a later chapter. Hopefully Aguni's answer will make some sense. And yes, he _totally_ killed his first wife.

Next up: Aguni and Shashi at the mall, and Zouchouten with adorable animals.)


	7. Cute Animals

**Cute Animals**

_In which our hero encounters a guinea pig and Zouchouten encounters cats_

.

.

The Wednesday after Le Maison Jeanne-Claudette, Bishamonten was perturbed. Kisshouten was grouchy, and seemed to be almost annoyed at him. Why was this? He was the perfect husband, wasn't he?

She was irritable, for what reason he honestly didn't know. Had he been a bit more self-aware, he would have realized that it was in response to his own irritability and tendency to pick fights over the stupidest things. It never occurred to him that getting into a row over Walt Disney's Masonic tendencies was silly, alas.

Well, he decided, so many artists were eccentric at best and certifiably insane at worst. Cutting off body parts, painting with human blood, and creating masterpieces then setting them on fire because they hadn't turned out the way they'd wanted them to. And he wasn't even thinking about experimental, modern art where they tossed Day-Glo paint on garbage and said with all honesty, "This represents the human soul in a time of war."

So she was probably just hitting a wall in the creative process, and once she got over it like he knew she would everything would be fine again, surely. After all, what did she have to be upset about in her daily home life?

He thought all this as he scanned her emails again, one ear listening for her to come down the stairs from her shower. Hmm, that John guy from the gallery… he wanted another lunch meeting. Suspicious, very suspicious!

So Bishamonten quickly noted this in his palm pilot under the folder "Protect Lotus", and vowed to casually drop in at the gallery soon to see what was going on. John _seemed _gay, but maybe he was just bi or a straight man so secure in his masculinity he was comfortable wearing a lilac shirt.

Anyway, Bishamonten sniffed as he clicked the email off, Kisshouten was merely irritable because of her job, not him. It had to be true. So when he left for work without noticing that he didn't give her a kiss goodbye, he completely missed the sad frown she sent his retreating back.

.

Four days later found Shashi and Aguni at the Mall Of Zenmi, where patrons were urged to "Come to shop. Stay to eat, view movies, and enjoy the amusement park. A thousand and one fun ways to spend your money!"

It was a nice mall, very big, second only to Minnesota's famed Mall Of America in size (in the US, anyway). Shashi knew it well, and Aguni had drawn up a plan of attack: first they'd hit the jewelry stores, then they'd have lunch, then they'd visit a host of clothing stores, getting snacks and drinks as needed, and finish up with the electronic stores if they wanted to.

So now here they were, having finished an overpriced lunch, and with only one bag each… which would change very, very soon. Shashi loved shopping, Aguni loved shopping, and they'd decided that they could just run out to the cars and dump the less expensive things in the trunk if need be to carry the new stuff.

"Usually I make Xavier carry half of it," Aguni said cheerfully as they strolled down the hall, "even though he whines about carrying pink bags and that I shouldn't buy so much. Men can be such babies sometimes."

Yes indeed, Koumokuten was only too happy not to have to accompany his wife today, and was contentedly watching "Kill Bill: Volume One" and applauding all the slaughter right that minute. Much better to watch Uma Thurman with a katana than spend time in that hellhole of a building, he grinned as he ate more popcorn.

And Shashi and Aguni had been getting to know each other better, and had been delighted to discover that yay, they had so many similarities in personality and interests! Although Aguni was adamant that Amy Lee was better than Britney Spears, Shashi was willing to overlook it. And they both agreed that rap needed to die, awright.

"Shashi," Aguni said happily as they crossed the threshold to a women's clothing store, "you're so much fun. You know, so many people get scared when I say I can kill a man five times before he hits the ground. But you… you think the kickboxing sounds interesting!"

"I see no reason why we can't learn to defend ourselves," Shashi sniffed. "I took self-defense classes and carry around a can of mace myself. So how did you get into kickboxing?"

"Back in college, I passed a studio on the way to my job, and I thought it looked fun," Aguni replied, perusing the racks. "And it was. I got Xavier into it too once we were married, and I keep trying to make Tamara join in. But she thinks it's not feminine enough, and would rather wait for a man to save her," she snorted.

Shashi muttered something about how that was an incredibly stupid worldview, despite how nice it was when men did things for you. Aguni nodded serenely, and they turned their attention to getting loot… er, seeing if any clothes caught their eyes.

Shashi was just thinking that that blue blouse over there was a bit too showy when she heard Aguni squeal, "Ooh! Perfect!"

She was holding up a halter top, beaming proudly that she'd found such a potential treasure. "This is so me!" she said happily, looking ever so pleased with herself.

Shashi blinked in surprise. The top had metallic flame graphics, and said, "Caution: HOT". Was her new friend some sort of pyromaniac? She had been wearing a flame dress at the restaurant, after all.

"Do you like fire?" Shashi asked Aguni as they headed to the clearance racks. "I remember your dress at that dinner featured a fire design too."

"I _adore _fire," Aguni grinned. "I love it so much that for my birthday Xavier built a towering bonfire and let me light it. Isn't that sweet?" she asked, unaware of how disturbing this might sound.

"Uh… yes, that's very sweet," Shashi lied, wondering what kind of cheap loser built his wife a fire instead of buying her expensive jewelry. _She _would have demanded diamonds, premium chocolates, and exclusive spa packages in payment for being married to Koumokuten… daily. Plus his credit cards.

She perused the clearance racks and saw four rather eye-catching lingerie sets: one with little jeweled red hearts on pink lace, a white one with Hershey's Kisses graphics and the word "Chocolate", an orange one with tiger stripes and a little fang charm in the middle, and one that was royal purple and had star motifs. All of which were no doubt pricy, because this was a boutique, even though they were on clearance.

Aguni studied the "Chocolate" set and made a decision. "I'll try this on too," she said happily, plucking it off the rack. "See Shashi, it's funny, because my skin's dark like chocolate."

Shashi considered how to reply. Should she acknowledge Aguni's different race and risk being called a white supremacist? Should she change the subject? Or should she make a joke like, "Do they have a 'White Chocolate' one for me, ha ha"?

"Xavier just _loves _my chocolate," Aguni sniggered, making Shashi decide that since the person of color had brought the race thing up first, it was okay to talk about it.

"Do you ever get weird looks when you go places with him?" she asked curiously. "I mean, it's the twenty-first century, but interracial relationships are still seen as unusual by some people."

"Sometimes," Aguni said blithely. "Once, when we were in Saint Louis, some skinhead said something and Xavier went berserk. He tossed him off a dock," she said proudly. "Then I tossed his friend in after him. We didn't have much trouble after that."

Shashi could see it now: Koumokuten kicking the guy in the crotch first, hurling him into the water, and chortling, "Have fun in a watery Hell, you insignificant peasant!" Then Aguni would put the second guy in a headlock, lift him up one-handed, and laugh like a psycho as he hit the Mississippi too.

"Anyway," the blonde smirked, "I'm just going to go try these on. Will you hold my bags?"

"Sure," the brunette agreed, accepting the purse and jewelry store bag she was being handed. "Hopefully they'll both fit."

There was nothing more annoying, she thought, then finding some great clothing and realizing you were too fat or not busty enough to pull it off. Then again, she rarely had those problems, if ever.

As Aguni headed to the fitting rooms, Shashi pondered the fact that her new pal was somewhat of a nutjob. Leaving aside her bad taste in men, she seemed to adore violence, hated children and yet was a gym teacher, and kept putting her stepdaughter down. She was, clearly, not a nice person.

On the other hand, Shashi was a-okay with violence if it got results, thought most other kids besides Tenou were brats, and had pegged Tamara as a whiny, spoiled bitch with an entitlement complex the size of Rhode Island. So that was fine! She and Aguni could be great friends.

"No to the flames, yes to the chocolate," Aguni sighed when she came back out, placing the top she'd decided not to get on the rack for the associates to put away. "Oh well. Sometimes I can't find anything I like, so one is fine."

They got in line, Aguni purchased her new underwear, and they strolled on back into the mall proper, wondering which store to hit next. So many choices! So many overpriced, name-brand garments! So many displays of mannequins that looked like stick figures with boobs!

"You know, Aguni," Shashi said casually, "Tamara seems to really like Tenou. I'm not so sure I want him to hang out with her, because she seems rather, well, spoiled."

"She is," Aguni sighed, shaking her head in resignation. "Xavier tells me that her mother gave her anything she wanted when she was a toddler, and by the time she was five that expectation was ingrained in her. Of course, he tends to do the same thing, so he's to blame as well. Had I been around in her formative years, she would have learned that you can't always get what you want, and that acting out doesn't mean you'll get your way in the real world. I'm doing my best to correct Xavier and Melissa's mistakes, but she's fighting me every step of the way."

"Tenou knows not to act out," Shashi bragged smugly. "He never disagrees with me, either."

"It's coming," Aguni said, turning to look at her with an amused gaze. "He's seventeen, and it's inevitable that he'll do something you don't want him to. It's part of life: you cry when you're a baby, you gain weight when you hit middle age, you get weak when you're old… you rebel as a teenager."

"Not Tenou," Shashi insisted, holding her head high. "He'll never rebel. He's too well-behaved. I've instilled good values in him, and _I _never did stupid things at that age."

Her memory was faulty, to the extreme. She'd partied the night away at clubs with a fake ID, she'd swigged down beer, she'd messed around with the star quarterback, and she'd tried to get her twin sister Kahra to do the same things. Kahra had been the good twin, Shashi had been, while not the _evil _twin, the bad one.

"Oh yes you did," Aguni insisted, smirking a bit. "We all did. For example, I lit my grandparents' shed on fire and dated two boys at once. And beat up the wrestling champ, too."

Shashi moved her companion into the "Badass" mental category, along with Taishakuten, Ashuraou, and Bishamonten, who'd once sent a man flying into a wall. Nope, nobody made lewd suggestions to Reginald Bishamonten's girlfriend, uh-uh.

Anyway, Aguni was clearly tough. Kickboxing aside, beating up a wrestling champ was impressive. Hey, maybe she could secretly pwn her husband, which made Koumokuten less of a man, it _had _to! (Shashi was unaware that Koumokuten, in fact, had Aguni beat in the kickboxing, but oh well.)

So Shashi casually replied, "Wow, that's great. I don't suppose your hus–"

"But I set fire to the rain," Adele belted from Aguni's purse, cutting Shashi off.

"Oh, that's Xavier," the gym teacher downright giggled, pressing a button on her cell and forgetting her friend completely. "Dark overlord of desire?" she purred into the phone as Shashi fought down her gag reflex.

"I just got something I think you'll enjoy," Aguni continued. "…No, not food. Well, I mean, it references food… No, not a shirt that says 'Flambé', silly! I'll just have to show you when I get home."

Shashi desperately scanned the mall as a distraction technique, so she wouldn't have to think about Koumokuten's reaction to the "Chocolate" bra and thong. Oh God, why was Aguni with that ugly loser? She could do so much better.

_Oh look, a Panda Express! Oh look, a Nordstrom! Oh look, a –_

"…And Xavieeerrr… you can help me decide if I should keep it or not."

_Oh look, a kiosk with Hello Kitty merchandise! Yes Shashi, focus on that expressionless, moneymaking cult classic of Japanese pop culture, and not on what Aguni's talking about. Isn't it just so cute you want to hurl? What is it with the Japanese and "cute" over "beautiful"?_

"No, we're _not_ nearly done! We've only been here for an hour, darling!"

Shashi returned her attention to Aguni, hoping that the conversation was now suitable for her ears. And so far it seemed to be, as the other woman was just murmuring "Uh-huh" and "No" and "Yes" into the phone. And then…

"Okay, I'll get some whipped cream on the way home, snugglebear. And maybe maraschino cherries too."

_Oh look, a troop of teenybopper girls with so much makeup they look like clowns! Oh look, a grandma wearing hotpants, ew! Oh look, a group of young men with their pants so low you can see the entire seat of their boxers, what a stupid fashion!_

"Bye Xavier!" Aguni hung up, then pointed and beamed, "Oh look, a Hot Topic!"

Shashi gave the store a wary glance and asked, "You mean the one with the front that looks like a castle gate? With 'Invader Zim' shirts in the window? With the sound system blasting My Chemical Romance and the associate trying really, really hard not to fall off her platform boots?"

"That's the one," Aguni said cheerfully. "Let's go in."

A bit stunned, Shashi followed her friend as she strode over to the store for Goths, emo kids, punk rockers, and those who really liked the color black. She couldn't help but cringe as she noticed an associate with facial piercings, multiple tattoos, and a shirt that said "Team Vlad Tepes, Bitches".

Oh Gawd, she did not belong in here at all. She was a forty-two-year-old doctor, not a sixteen-year-old Goth who wanted to be an anime voice actor/the next Emilie Autumn. She was classy! She didn't want a shirt with Rob Zombie on it, or black feather earrings, or a corset with –

Whoa… corsets!

Shashi had a secret thing for corset-type tops. She owned a number of lingerie sets that included them, and while these seemed to have a ton of studs, rivets, and unnecessary lacing as a whole, she could see a couple that looked very nice.

She tried to resist, honestly she did. She forcibly turned her attention to Aguni, who was checking out a shoe display. And then she heard the other woman say to the sales associate, "My husband has a fetish for black, so do you have the 'Mistress Of Desire' boots in black instead of purple?"

So then she quickly wandered over to the CDs, but recognized few of the artists save Emilie Autumn, who Tenou liked. Oh, so many of these band names were just stupid! Who would buy a CD from "Puscifer"?

But the corsets were calling her name, with siren-esque little voices.

"Shashi…" they keened, "you know you'd fit in us, you goddess! You know we provide support and make your waist look even thinner! Come, try us on! Take us home! How long has it been since anyone bought you lingerie? It's been years!"

_No! _she thought firmly, steadfastly staring at the body jewelry. _I buy myself lingerie, so what if Arthur didn't pick up on my hints? I bought myself some lingerie just last week, and it was lace! I like lace, I don't need something with skull studs!_

"Some of us are ribbons and lace only," the corset chorus crooned. "Shashi… you can afford us! Just turn and look at us, and then you'll see that you must have at least one!"

_Oh look, a hoodie that says "Zombies are sexy!" Oh look, a skirt with safety pins! Oh look, that associate's plump and wearing… a… corset…_

She surrendered and turned back around. Oh yes… she saw two possible styles that might work. One was black with blue ribbons, the other was red with black ribbons. She crossed over as Aguni thanked the sales associate for finding her the shoes, and studied her options.

Hmm… these seemed to come in Extra Small, Small, and Medium, with a single Large. But the cups were big for each size, so clearly the designers thought all women either had implants or were blessed with Shashi figures (not true). But they both looked like they'd fit that gorgeous specimen of femininity.

She shut her eyes and tried one more time to resist. _I don't need it! Either of them! I've got that Victoria's Secret thong set with the lace, and the –_

"Shashi? What are you thinking of trying?" Aguni asked happily, a shoebox under her arm. "Ooh… corsets!"

She scanned the offerings, and then pointed, saying firmly, "The red one. And it has spiderwebs too!"

Before Shashi could ask her for her help in resisting, Aguni had snatched a Medium set off the rack and was herding her towards the dressing rooms, waving an associate over. "She wants to try this," the blonde informed him, grinning. "Can you unlock a stall?"

"Sure thing," he agreed, wondering why such a classy MILF-type lady would be in here, but too beholden to the golden rule of "Make The Company Money" to ask. He unlocked the door, checked to make sure Shashi wasn't carrying anything else, and smiled, "Just tell me when you're done, okay?"

She barely had time reply, "Of course," before Aguni shoved her inside, pressing the bodice set into her hand and saying, "If you need me to get you anything else, let me know! I will."

After locking the door, poor browbeaten Shashi stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror for a second, then sighed, shrugged, and took her shirt and bra off. Oh, why did she do this? Why couldn't she say "no" to a certain type of lingerie? And why did that associate think stretching his earlobes until the holes were nickel-sized was cool?

She managed to zip the corset up with a few arm contortions, and damn it… it fit perfectly. She looked hot, curses. Now she _had _to buy it, because she liked looking hot and it was as comfortable as one of these could be. So how much was it anyway?

She checked the price and sighed. While it wasn't as expensive as some lingerie, it was more than it should be. Then again, she was a doctor and could afford it, so she couldn't justify this as "out of my price range".

And it really was pretty. She looked damn good in red, and the black lace and spiderwebs gave the garment a slightly kinky, naughty edge. And it came with matching panties, which she quickly tried too. Those fit as well, so it was clinched: she would be buying this lingerie.

So when she exited the dressing room with her future purchase clutched to her chest, she was both resigned and secretly pleased. But once she was at the register, the downsides off all this came back into her head. Was she turning into one of those pitiable women of a certain age who thought they could pull off younger styles? Was she as bad as the granny in hotpants?

No, she wasn't _that _bad, she assured herself as she handed the cashier her credit card. And it wasn't like she'd be wearing this in public!

"Do you have a rewards card, ma'am?" the cashier asked pleasantly. "Have you been in here before?"

"No and no," Shashi replied a bit shortly. "And I don't want one," she hastened to add, before the cashier could say just that. She certainly wasn't going to make a habit of patronizing this store, not least because the music was giving her a headache.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive," she snapped, holding her hand out for her card and thinking, _Idiot. And a white girl with dreadlocks just looks wrong to me. Chop it all off and start over, honey._

After Aguni paid for her new footwear, they left the store. Aguni was grinning and humming a happy tune, which sounded a bit like "Naughty Girl" by Beyonce. Shashi herself glared at a bawling pair of toddlers, which weren't helping her sudden headache.

_I just bought a corset set with little spiderwebs on it, _she told herself, trying to come to terms with this. _I have nowhere to wear it to, because Arthur seems uninterested in that sort of thing and nobody else will suggest, "Take your robe off, I want to see what you have on under it."_

And really, red and black was a bad combination to buy. It was fine at first glance, but then you started thinking of long red hair and long-lashed black eyes, and how the owner of such features _used _to grin, "And what are you wearing under that?"

She considered returning the overpriced thing, but then she'd have to explain why to Aguni. And she wasn't going to do that one.

.

Right about when Aguni shoved Shashi into the dressing room, Zouchouten strolled up the sidewalk of a white mansion, carrying his flute case and frowning at the piece of paper in his hand. Hmm, this looked like it: 2284 Royalty Drive.

He stepped up to the door and knocked. Nothing. Huh.

He was reaching for the doorbell when a noise made itself known. It was faint, and he could really feel it more than hear it. It sounded like… an electric guitar? No, two, and drums.

_Tenou never mentioned he was in a band._

He rang the doorbell, and he could barely hear it. Very strange, this. But now there was only one guitar, so it must have registered. Any moment now Tenou would open the door and beam, "Hi!"

The door did open, and the sudden surge of guitar-shredding widened Zouchouten's eyes, but not nearly to the extent of what he was seeing. A young man with long black hair, ripped jeans, a headband, and no shirt blinked at him in surprise. Zouchouten blinked back. Dear God, Tenou's friends pumped serious iron.

The guy bellowed, "HAKU! Shut it off! He's here early!" over his shoulder, and the music stopped quickly.

Zouchouten just stared for a moment as Shirtless Guy grinned at him and nearly sang, "You must be the new bass player! Wicked cool sideburns. For real." He checked around Zouchouten while asking, "Where's your bass?"

The business executive felt like he'd just stepped into the Twilight Zone. "Is this 2284 Royalty Drive?" he queried rather dazedly. Perhaps he'd gotten the wrong house.

Shirtless Guy nodded, smiling benevolently as he replied, "Yes indeed, my friend. I'm Blue Dragon." He indicated the tank-clad and also-headbanded teenager who'd come up next to him and continued, "This is Nathan, the drummer."

"Sei," Ryuu snapped loftily, "when I'm on the skins I'm Dragon King. You introduced yourself as Blue Dragon, after all." He appraised Zouchouten and decided, "I think we'll call you 'Barbarian God'. Lose the tie, though."

The annoyed, confused, and insulted Zouchouten barked, "I am not a bass player! I'm here for Tenou. Now is he home or not?" he asked, wanting to punch Nathan/Dragon King for the "barbarian" comment. It wasn't _his _fault he was so big and intimidating.

Blue Dragon/Sei shrugged and said, matter-of-factly and cheerfully, "I have no idea if Tenou's home. Anyway, have you ever considered joining a rock band, sir?"

Zouchouten was now appalled, and growled, "You mean you people just stroll on into his hou–"

"SEI, WHO'S AT THE DOOR?" a voice called.

"I DUNNO!" Seiryuu yelled back.

"WELL INVITE THEM IN, IDIOT!"

Seiryuu smacked his forehead and lamented, "Where _are _my manners? C'mon in." He stepped back, but Zouchouten did not step in. What the hell was going on here, and who were these strange young men with headbands?

"Now look," he rumbled, drawing himself up to his full, impressive height, "I'm a friend of Tenou's, and I demand to know what –"

"Oh, you're Tenou's friend! Well then you've _gotta _come in," Seiryuu said happily. "Nath– Dragon King, get us some tea, okay? And tell White Dragon to come into the living room."

"Where is Tenou?" Zouchouten snarled, looking very much like an irate barbarian god indeed.

Ryuu whistled in rocker appreciation, but Seiryuu smiled apologetically and answered, "If he's home, he's next door." He jerked a thumb at Shashi's house.

"Oh." Zouchouten refrained from adding, "Thank God." In his relief, he smiled as he said, "I must have written the address wrong."

Seiryuu sighed, sounding rather disappointed. "Yeah… um, hey, you're here already, you wanna come in? 'Cause I just remembered that I saw Tenou heading out an hour ago with some friends."

Zouchouten sighed too, _feeling_ rather disappointed. That would explain why Tenou hadn't answered his phone; he was probably having too much fun to remember the flute date.

"Too bad," he murmured, slumping a bit.

Seiryuu extended a hand and muttered, "Um, I'm Seiryuu Waters. I'm so sorry about the mix– "

"Mrrrowwr?"

Zouchouten looked down into the giant eyes of the most "awww"-inspiring cat he'd ever seen. Half grown, orange and white, with shining golden saucer eyes and a fluffy tail, the cat gazed at this human-thing bigger even than its food providers. It was, without a doubt, the single cutest being Zouchouten had ever seen, and that included a certain ridiculously cute young lady.

Ryuu quickly snatched the cat up and scolded, "No Mikey, outside is dangerous! Cars and dogs and other cats and –"

"Can I pet him?"

Seiryuu beamed at the longing tone in his unexpected visitor's voice. "Sure, he loves people," he informed Zouchouten, proud as could be. "He's really a people cat. He also loves other animals, even dogs."

"I love animals," Zouchouten murmured, scratching Mikey behind the ears. "He's simply adorable."

The cat immediately started purring, closing those eyes in feline bliss. So maybe he couldn't get outside and kill birds, but at least he was getting attention!

Seiryuu smiled even harder, if that was possible, and offered, "We have two more. You wanna meet 'em?"

"Thank you, yes," Zouchouten decided. He abandoned all hope of flute playing, and went willingly through the gates of Cute Animal-ville.

.

An hour later, Tenou futilely tried his front door. No luck. He'd forgotten his keys, his mom was gone with that scary Aguni Steel-Koumokuten, and his friends had already driven off. And Shashi never hid a spare under the front mat, which made sense, he sighed.

He shrugged and walked over to the neighbors'. Hakuryuu and Seiryuu would happily take him in for as long as they needed to, they were nice. And he was curious about the inside of their house, as Shashi had never let him go over there before.

He rang the bell, and noticed the low volume of it as well. What the heck?

Then Ryuu opened the door and grinned, "Hey Tenou. Your friend's in the living room," he informed him, stepping aside to let the older boy in. "The dude with the sideburns and the yen for cats."

Tenou started to frown before the date and time hit him. _Uh…oh. I hope Aaron isn't mad!_

But nope, Zouchouten was so far from mad it was funny. "Ah, Tenou. I'd rise to greet you, but," he smiled down at Muffin and Mittens on his lap, "I can't."

"Meowr," Mikey added from his place on Zouchouten's shoulder. This new guy made a great perch, as he was like a rock ledge, almost. He was now covered in cat fur, but he didn't seem to care too much, score.

Tenou apologized, was given tea as well, and finally noticed Seiryuu's lack of shirt. Hakuryuu had put his own "Rock Of Ages" shirt back on but left it open, and Ryuu was wearing a tank top with a pair of green Chinese dragons and a guitar. The entire effect was "garage chic", because everyone's hair was perfectly clean and well-conditioned (unlike some rockers).

_No wonder Mother didn't want me to come over, _Tenou thought happily. "Are you guys musicians?" he asked, impressed by such rebelliousness.

Seiryuu smiled and replied, "Well, not professionally. Professionally, I'm a computer programmer and Haku's a dermatologist. Well, almost, he's still doing residency," he clarified, picking up his teacup.

Ryuu grinned again at Tenou's shocked expression and laughed, "I know, a doctor with that hair, right?"

Tenou stammered something like, "It's very unique," and Dr. Haku picked up with, "Anyway, we do love music. We bought this house because it has soundproof walls, so we can play as loud as we want," he chuckled.

"They work," Zouchouten chipped in.

So Tenou had tea, and a sandwich, and more tea, and met the cats who clung to Zouchouten, not to mention the actual new bass player. And by the time Shashi came home… her son had decided that he wanted to be a rock star instead of a pediatrician.

.

The next day (Monday) found Bishamonten pondering the past whenever there was a lull in the action of business. What was it about Shashi that kept his thoughts coming back to her? Was it jealousy that she was with his boss? Was it annoyance at Kisshouten for being so short with him lately? Or was it the fact that she'd been a major focus of his existence for three glorious years?

Compared to the fact that Kisshouten had been a major focus of his existence for thirteen years, this was silly, he hastened to remind himself. Except… well, those three years had kind of been, to be perfectly cliché, the best years of his life. And not because his job or social situation had been phenomenal, either.

No, he'd disliked his job, and hadn't had any really close friends. He'd only met Zouchouten and Koumokuten (and Jikokuten) eleven years ago, as Taishakuten was bringing his allies together. Back in 1991-1994, his best friend had been a womanizing slacker, one that he'd lost touch which very quickly after he'd moved to Zenmi in 1996.

So truly, that time had only been good because of Shashi. They'd done so many interesting things together, from the time she'd talked him into rollerblading down a hill so steep he was surprised people could drive on it, to the time he'd convinced her to go skydiving with him. And there would be those little, everyday fun things too, like a rose on her pillow and the "I love you!" calls to his office.

And all the times they'd sat outside at their favorite café, observing humanity and making snarky comments, which always made them grin at each other. Honestly, if you didn't find mean humor funny, you were really missing out.

"That woman is so fat she needs her own area code," Shashi would smirk, indicating the obese target with a slight nod of her head.

"So true," Bishamonten would smirk back. "How can people let themselves go so much? It's pathetic, Shashi. If all the exercise you get is lifting your fork and chewing, something has to change."

"Reginald," she'd say brightly, "want to go get an intense, enjoyable workout in bed?"

"Why yes I do," he'd reply, signaling the waitperson. "Check please!"

The sex… oh lordy, the sex had been fantastic. As horrible as this was, the first time he'd slept with Kisshouten, he'd found himself thinking (as she fell asleep and he had time to think), _That's it? What about all the explicit moans and nail lines on my back? _

Shashi was, in a word, adventurous. She liked trying new things, knew what turned her on, knew her own boundaries but was willing to push them, and was basically a devil in the sack. She'd suggested all sorts of fun things, and Bishamonten had grinned and replied, "Okay. I'm fine with that."

He missed the adventurousness, now that he thought about it. Oh, Kisshouten was good in bed too, but she never suggested kinky things. And she tended not to sprinkle her sex dialogue with terms calculated to make men go wild.

But Shashi gave Koumokuten a run for his money in naughty language sometimes, except her words were erotic and not insults. And she used to wear all sorts of interesting and very hot lingerie, most of it lace, but not all of it. Wow, Bishamonten had been so glad they were living in the 1990s in America, and not the 1890s in Victorian England.

Then there was the caramel sauce… yeah. He still felt his heart speed up at the sight of it, in some sort of Pavlovian response to fun, kinky activities with such a condiment. Sure it had made a mess, but _damn. _He tended to avoid desserts with caramel sauce now, as it always brought up explicit memories.

Leaving aside all the sex, and the similar interests in lording it over other people and buying expensive, highest-quality things, they were hardly ever bored. They used to sing duets, and had worn out the tapes to the instrumental version of "If I Can't Have You" by the Bee Gees, not to mention Cyndi Lauper's "Time After Time". And "Lady In Red", but only Bishamonten sang that one.

But it hadn't all been caramel sauce and romantic vocal pieces, he firmly reminded himself. There had been fights, and she'd once made him so angry he'd punched the wall so hard it cracked a bit. Not to mention that his mother had hated her, and she and his cousin Shirley had once gotten into a catfight.

To be fair, though, he hadn't been perfect either. After meeting her sister Kahra only once (before she and Shashi had a near relationship-ending fight of their own, and didn't speak for years), he'd made the mistake of muttering, "Your mother was a slut," when she could hear him.

To be totally honest, Miranda Lipschnitzski _had _been a slut, one look at her twin daughters made that very clear. Kahra was half Indian, Shashi was fully Caucasian. Yup, Miranda had been fooling around with two men, within an hour of each other no less. But oh well, she'd loved her children and ended the sluttiness when she'd realized she was going to be a mother.

None of that mattered anymore, he told himself firmly as he started his car to go home, talking to an associate over the phone on autopilot. Shashi was an ex-girlfriend, Kisshouten was his wife, and who cared about the caramel sauce? It wasn't that big of an issue.

After finishing that call, he turned his full attention to driving. Alas, another call came through almost instantly, and he turned the headset back on with a sigh. A dangerous distraction while piloting a large machine? Foolishness, he'd been doing this for years, and he'd never had a problem yet.

"Hello?"

"Reginald?"

"Yes, this is Reginald Bishamonten," he replied, pressing the gas pedal ever so slightly.

"Oh good. Hi, this is Shara! Look, um, I was hoping you'd be able to do me a giant favor."

"I suppose that depends on what it is," he hedged, remembering being roped into babysitting for eight-year-old Tamara by immediately saying "yes". Oh, what an ordeal… he'd had to scrub his face multiple times to get rid of the ink from the marker she'd attacked him with.

"It's nothing too bad, but you see," Shara sounded incredibly worried, "I just twisted my ankle half an hour ago, and I'm still at the doctor's office and Nicholas is out of town. We're all out of cat food, and the nurse says to stay off the ankle as much as possible for now. If I give you the specifics, could you pick a small bag up for me and I'll pay you back?"

"Certainly," he replied, relieved that this was all. He'd been afraid she needed to be chauffeured to her mother's house many miles away, or something. "Just let me get my Blackberry."

He grabbed it, proceeded to up his chances of a car crash significantly, and took down all the information on Nala's cat food. And directions to the pet store.

So, when he strolled into said pet store, he was confident he could find the "Little Lion Roasted Duck and Green Pea Dry Food For Senior Cats 12+ Years of Age", in the 3-lb size.

_Things have certainly changed from when my grandmother used to agonize over Friskies or Meow Mix…_

And he was completely correct. The store was divided into sections of Dog, Cat, Avian, Reptilian, Aquatic, and Small Animals (which he took to mean hamsters and such, judging by the graphics, as a lot of birds, lizards, and fish were, in fact, small animals too). And joy of joys, the aisles were also labeled with their contents, and there were signs on the shelves themselves for each brand.

Bishamonten double-checked his Blackberry, located Nala's aptly named preferred brand, preferred flavor, and correct formula and size. He turned to go back the way he'd come, but a large woman with two (also large) small children had very effectively blocked that direction with their cart and selves.

He simply turned and went the other way, thinking to himself that this was pretty expensive pet kibble.

_Well, it's the healthy kind, and maybe it's designer or gourmet. People are much more willing to buy pricier food for their "furry family members" these day–_

He stopped short at the sight before him as he entered the main aisle. In a cage on a large table between dog collar bling and cat toys (Aisle Three), a most unusual animal was bouncing around.

It was a guinea pig… at least, he _thought _it was a guinea pig, because it had the basic body shape and no tail or bunny ears. But it had the craziest fur of any pet Bishamonten had ever seen.

He approached it with his head cocked ever so slightly to the side in fascination. This thing had not only a mohawk on the top of its head, but mohawks all over its entire body. Rosettes, whorls, and gravity-defying sprigs of inky black hair jutted out from its roly-poly body, and it was apparently having a grand old time.

A laminated sheet stuck to the cage caught his eye then, and he read the words printed there: "Hello! My name is Puffball, and I'm for adoption. I'm a male guinea pig (or boar) who is very good with people and loves carrots. I've been here for –" a blank space had had the number "9" scribbled in, "– days, and I come with my cage! If you're interested in giving me a forever home, please see an associate for details."

Bishamonten stared at the plump, black boar. Shashi had had guinea pigs as a teenager and had extolled their virtues. She'd always said that one day she would get one again and make him see how wonderful they were –

He shook his head irritably. Great, Shashi liked them, fantastic. He wasn't married to Shashi, he was married to his wonderful, beloved lotus, and while Kisshouten liked most animals he had no idea if she'd like a rodent. She screamed when she saw a mouse. Sure she laughed about it later, but there it was.

"Sir? Would you like to see him?"

Bishamonten turned quickly. An associate smiled at him, pet hair on her shirt and wearing a nametag that said "Gigei". He had time to wonder about her name for only a second before she continued, "He's a real sweetheart, really friendly and calm. I'd take him myself, but I've got a python."

A horrible vision of a shrilling guinea pig being strangled by a python, as Gigei frantically tried to rescue it, flashed through Bishamonten's mind.

"I… no thank you," he managed, "I was just admiring him."

Gigei grinned and reached her hand into the cage. Puffball went up on his hind legs and nuzzled her hand happily as she chatted, "He's a handsome little guy. He's an Abyssinian, that's why his hair's all spiky. That breed has it naturally."

"Is he friendly?" Bishamonten asked rather needlessly, as Puffball was leaning into her ear scratches.

"Oh yes," she beamed, "even for a guinea, he's affectionate. He's well socialized. Usually if they're in our store and this big they're very shy, but his people obviously spent a lot of time with him."

She picked him up and laughed, "See. No struggling. He _likes _attention."

Puffball burrowed into her shoulder, making soft little squeaking noises. Oh man, this little blighter was adorable. Bishamonten could feel paternal instincts rising up, but he stubbornly stamped them back down. This wasn't a child, this was an animal! A cute, friendly, cuddly animal, but he couldn't play catch with it or help it with its math homework.

He was just opening his mouth to say, "I hope he finds a good home, I've got to be going now," when Gigei held the piggy out and offered, "Would you like to pet him?"

And the paternal instincts overwhelmed the barricades. Bishamonten extended a hand, stroked the guinea pig… and Puffball tasted his wrist.

_No, germs! _logic shrieked futilely. _Aww, precious! _everything else sighed.

Bishamonten then made an irresponsible decision: he got a pet without consulting the person it was for. Yes he made sure to buy all the supplies and two books, but the chances of little Puffball being returned were about 50/50. But luckily for him and even luckier for Puffball, Kisshouten melted at the sight of the guinea pig.

"Oh _Reginald_," she murmured, peering into the box he'd just presented her with, "what a little darling!"

The boar burbled and sniffed his new mommy's hand. Kisshouten beamed, stroking his spiky fur, and murmured, "He's so friendly, he must have been someone's. Was he for adoption?"

"Yes," the pleased Bishamonten told his wife. "They named him Puffball, but of course you can change it to whatever you want."

Kisshouten gently picked the little darling up and decided, "I think…maybe we'll keep that, he's probably used to it." She quickly brought him to her chest, and Puffball snuggled in, talking to himself in Guinea Pig.

"Do we know how old he is?" she asked.

Bishamonten pulled out the adoption paper and answered, "According to this, he's about two years old. His owners bought him for their daughter, and when she moved out she said they could get rid of him."

Kisshouten frowned, "Poor thing, tossed out like an old toy she didn't want." She petted the new member of the family again and promised, "Well, we'll take good care of you."

After dropping off Nala's food to a grateful Shara, Bishamonten filled Puffball's food bowl and water bottle, set out the timothy hay, and made sure to give the little guy some carrot peelings and Vitamin C while thinking, _We may not have a child… but at least we have a pet now._

It was only when he was falling asleep, post-coital and with Kisshouten's arms around him, that it occurred to him to wonder why he'd gotten that pet.

.

.

(AN: Guinea pigs rock the hizzay. Spend enough time with them and they form bonds with you, and once that happens their affection reaches cat or maybe even dog levels. They speak a little piggy language all of their own, popcorn [jump straight into the air and sometimes twist] when happy, and eat all your vegetable scraps.

As I type this, mine is cuddling in my lap. Puffball is a compilation of the best traits of the six I've had the privilege to own; each guinea pig has his or her own personality. There is indeed a breed called an Abyssinian, with that distinctive hair.

Nala's name, of course, comes from the movie "The Lion King", and as far as I know there is no "Little Lion"-brand cat food.

Oh, and before you ask: I like Hot Topic, but I'm old enough to remember when they had better stuff and weren't trying so hard. Now I occasionally find fun clothes, but they're even more expensive. Oh well, usually the music selection's good.

Used another Adele song from "21" here, and now I'm thinking it might make a good manga-based fic prompt for Koumokuten/Aguni [or Kouguni, as I like to call it]. Yes, I have odd taste in characters I find interesting, shush. I don't own "Set Fire To The Rain", obviously.

In the next chapter, we get fanservice, Kisshouten being strong, and Tamara stalking poor Tenou. Run, Tenou. Run really, really fast.)


	8. Ice Cubes

_In which our hero is a perv and Kisshouten makes a decision_

.

.

One day about two weeks after Bishamonten's acquisition of Puffball, Tenou found himself at fencing practice, his instructor correcting a new move he'd just been taught. For once Shashi wasn't present, because Tenou had finally prevailed upon her to let him drive himself.

"You must strike from undairneath, quick like a sanake," the instructor lectured, demonstrating. "Eet eez vitahl zat you do not waste zee time on watcheeng for a parree."

Rene Charmand could have played a Frenchman in a movie, he was so stereotypical. He had carefully-styled short hair, a pencil-thin little goatee, muttered to himself in French and was a total snob. He despaired over American "attempts at cuisine", imported his coffee from his homeland, and mocked anyone who tried to speak his native language, no matter how good their pronunciation was.

But he liked Tenou. He had visions of Tenou going all the way to the Olympics, and what a _shame_,Rene would have to accompany him there and get attention too. Sacrifices had to be made for the art!

Tenou fenced with a foil, and he was good at it. He'd been fencing since he was six, starting out after watching "The Princess Bride" one too many times and challenging a school bully to a duel with pointed sticks (he had won with the stick, then lost when the bully snapped his weapon and tackled him). Shashi had decided that hmm, maybe a few practices with the actual sport would make him lose interest in swashbuckling.

This strategy had backfired, but that was okay! Her precious son was almost a natural at such a combat sport, and getting acclaim for such a thing was a positive. Not to mention it made her feel a little better about her style of childrearing, as he wrote stories with titles like "Billy the Butterfly and Miss Ladybug Have Tea". See, her son was macho too! He was just _sensitive._

Be all that as it may, Tenou never missed a practice unless he was seriously ill, made sure to do all the recommended exercises, and always used his fencing powers for good, never evil. He was sportsmanlike, willing to learn from those better than him, and lacked the arrogance many athletes developed.

In fact, Rene would sigh in despair when his star pupil said something like, "Oh, I'm flattered that you think I'm unstoppable, but really, anybody who practices hard and listens to their mentors can do it!" Rene himself usually sniffed, "Oui, I am 'ard to beat, eh? Go back to feedleeng around weeth your pocket knife, you certainly cannot do much with zee foil!"

Today, Rene paired Tenou with his daughter Bernadette for sparring. Although competitively they would never meet, as formal competitions were split along gender lines, this was a challenge, because Bernadette had practically been born with a sword in her hand.

Alas, she always just missed the cutoff for the Olympic team, but she was _good. _Rene was putting a lot of effort into Tenou, and having him fight Bernadette was a fantastic learning experience. And someday, Tenou Prince would land that coveted spot, with Rene on the sidelines, looking ever so dashing.

So Tenou dueled and lost, and dueled and won, and dueled and lost, and pushed his limits like every good warrior should. Finally, as they finished the last round, Bernadette nodded over to the benches on the sidelines and asked, "Do you know those people? They keep staring at you."

He looked over and almost dropped his foil in shock. A man with a wavy forelock and an embarrassed expression waved at him, sitting right next to a teenage girl who was wearing a pink halter top, a pink miniskirt, and pink heeled sandals. The girl also waved, fluttering her eyelashes and making sure he got her best side.

It was a good thing he was wearing a protective mask, because he would have had to explain why he looked both terrified and disgusted had they seen his face. As it was, Varuna cocked his head and muttered, "He's not waving back," to Tamara.

"Mr. Varuna, he's never met you," she sniffed. "I wish you weren't here, but Daddy insisted I have someone accompany me and the housekeeper is out sick."

Zouchouten had unfortunately let slip the fact that he knew which fencing school Tenou attended, and Koumokuten had wrested that name from him through a combination of conniving and lulling him into a false sense of security. He'd asked him questions about work that he'd answered on autopilot, then slipped in "Where does Tenou take fencing?"

Then he'd carried the tale to Tamara, because his little girl deserved whatever she wanted, and she _really _wanted Tenou. Koumokuten did have a long talk about "no premarital sex, I mean it now!" with her, however. After all, his daughter was an innocent waif, and the mere thought of her getting rowdy with a boy made him want to hurl.

In reality, Tamara was the kind of girl who messed around with teenaged hunks, and while Koumokuten was aware that she'd once blown a classmate under the bleachers, he stubbornly clung to the belief that she was otherwise pure as driven snow. Aguni, on the other hand, thought Tamara was sluttier than a roomful of reality-TV starlets.

It was an interesting dynamic. Koumokuten was a bit conflicted about all of it, as he'd realized that eventually Tamara would move out and probably date three men at once. And honestly, sex was great, and maybe if she found a loving, monogamous partner to marry he wouldn't be so worried about her getting STDs or pregnant out of wedlock.

At the same time… he didn't want to think about that! Offspring should be innocent children their entire lives, so what if their fathers got wild with enthusiastic gym teacher spouses? Double standards were good things, and who cared if hormones ran amok at age sixteen?

But polite, shy Tenou was a good fit for Tamara, and gee, he just _happened _to be Taishakuten's girlfriend's son, what a shame. Of course there was the fact that Tamara's mooning over the boy was incredibly annoying, but maybe if she had him she'd stop bothering her father with sighs of "Tenou is all I ever wanted, Daddy!"

So here Tamara was, sitting on a bench in the fencing school, waving at her object of affection and having applied a bit more makeup than usual. And ooh, those fencing suits were tight! If only he'd take his mask off so she could see his handsome face.

"Hi Tenou!" she trilled, waving some more. "That was really cool! You look so _dashing!_"

He briefly considered changing his voice and replying, "Who's Tenou? I'm Bob," but that would be incredibly mean and rude, and he wasn't mean and rude. So he flipped the mask's visor up and greeted, "Hi Tamara. Um, thanks. This is Bernadette," he said almost desperately, indicating his companion.

Tamara paid no attention to the other female, just barreled on, "Are you surprised to see us? Daddy told me this is where you take fencing. He says 'hi'!" she simpered, pushing her chest out.

"Tell him I said 'hi' back," he replied somewhat weakly. Koumokuten was _scary._

She nudged Varuna, got no response, and kicked him in the lower leg, making him wince and hastily offer, "We were just wondering if you'd like to go out for ice cream. I'd pay of course," he said dutifully.

Heaven forbid Koumokuten's little Princess should pay for a date! Assistants should do that, never mind that this wasn't in their job description. Nope, Koumokuten had made it very clear to poor Varuna that he would foot the bill for ice cream. After all, he already footed the bill for coffee, cakes, and lunches, poor man.

"That's very kind of you," Tenou quickly responded, "but my mother's waiting for me to come home. But thank you anyway."

Tamara pouted, and before she could think up another offer, he excused himself with, "I'm so sorry, but I've got to go. I have a big science project to finish up, and it's six-thirty already. But it was nice to see you," he lied.

"Oh, you'll see me again here," she informed him proudly. "I like watching you practice! It's so _enthralling_."

For a moment, he considered asking Bernadette to pretend to be his girlfriend. But she would just smirk and refuse, and then laugh at his plight. So instead he responded with, "That's… great. Well, um, I've gotta go change. Bye!"

And he made a break for it down to the changing rooms, vowing to take a long time getting into regular clothes. Tamara cocked her head, watched him go, and proudly told Varuna, "See, he _likes _me."

.

Puffball was an absolute doll. Bishamonten was very surprised that guinea pigs were still considered weird, exotic pets, when this one was sweeter than his parent's dog when he was a kid. Then again, Tiddles had been neurotic even for a Chihuahua, so perhaps he wasn't the best dog to compare other pets to.

But this pet was awesome. He was cuddly, affectionate, and made all sorts of cute little noises. Bishamonten and Kisshouten had gobbled up the new information contained in the guinea pig books, and had learned much.

"He's wheeking," Bishamonten would proclaim, proud of knowing such lingo. "He's excited. Yes, Puffball, here are your carrots!"

"He's popcorning," Kisshouten would beam as the guinea pig went exuberantly nuts when she took him outside (in an enclosure of course). "He's so happy!"

"He's purring," Bishamonten would say in concern when a crash of thunder sounded. "He's scared, poor thing."

And so on and so forth. Yes, being guinea pig people meant that you had a pet that, while he made little messes sometimes, was always hungry for vegetables you didn't want and had his own little language. Bishamonten briefly wondered if they should get him a sow (female) so they could have more little darlings, but decided not to. After all, there were so many piggies in shelters already.

Puffball lived in their living room (in his cage, duh), and every morning when they came down they'd say hello and take him out. Of course, he was more interested in breakfast, but didn't put up too much of a fuss when they picked him up. After all, attention was good!

In his little guinea pig mind, he'd identified his new humans as Mommy and Daddy. Not in such words, as he had no concept of them, but as maternal and paternal beings who paid lots of positive attention to him. His last human had started out adoring him, but for the past three months she'd pretty much ignored him except to feed and clean his cage.

Bitch! He was a social little guy, and no amount of chewing on the bars of his cage, running mad laps until he got dizzy, flipping his plastic igloo over, or even shrieking had made her give him the love he'd gotten used to. No, she'd snapped at him to shut up, and gone back to texting. Who cared about her pet when that sexy classmate was flirting with her?

So Puffball had been pretty starved for affection. He missed Gigei, who had cooed and snuggled him whenever she could, and he'd been hoping she might be Mommy someday. After all, he'd been in a new place, and she'd been the one to talk softly to him and give him treats, and make sure to spend time with him.

Nowadays he was almost waiting for the other shoe to drop, here in a third environment in less than a month. However, judging by the way Daddy and Mommy fussed over him, hopefully that wouldn't happen. And he was having much more fun with them than Former Mommy.

Why, Mommy took him outside, where food _grew out of the ground_. Grass! Dandelions! Little tree seedlings! Oh, life was good.

Kisshouten had purchased a small foldable dog enclosure, which worked just fine for Puffball too. And she'd sit in there with him, reading a book or sketching away, and be quite content as well.

"Shara," Rasetsu muttered as he looked out the window and saw Kisshouten sitting in a cage on her front lawn, "come see this. Is this some sorta… S and M Dom/sub thing? Did she displease Reginald and now she has to be humiliated in full view of the neighborhood?"

Shara looked out the window too, her mouth dropping open. Yes indeed, this looked bad. Horrible scenarios surfaced in her mind:

Bishamonten, wearing dungeon master gear and smacking a riding crop into a leather-gloved palm, snapping, "Kisshouten, you've been very naughty. I wanted you to wear the nipple clamps all day yesterday, and you didn't. Go in the cage! It's that or the stocks."

Or…

Kisshouten, chained to a wall wearing nothing but a pair of thigh-high stockings and a collar, pleading, "Reginald, I'm sorry I referred to you as 'honey' instead of 'Master'! Don't make me go in the cage!"

"Nope," he'd reply, clad in his business suit for that "boardroom deity" look. "Into the cage you go, Kisshouten. Such slip-ups will not be tolerated."

Shara shuddered as Rasetsu squinted his eyes and murmured, "Wait… there's something by her left leg. Something… moving. See? It kinda blends in with her hair, but look, the texture's different. It's spiky."

Shara studied Puffball, and sighed in relief. "It's some sort of… mutated rabbit. Watch, you can see it eat that dandelion. Good, she's not Reginald's slave in the bedroom after all."

"I dunno, honey," Rasetsu sighed, "he is kind of a bossy guy…"

And so, when Bishamonten encountered Rasetsu on the sidewalk the next afternoon, he got a wary look and a diligently observed amount of personal space. He smiled in haughty oblivion, pleased that finally, the bubble-invading hockey coach had figured out that they weren't in a Hispanic country, where physical contact was the order of the day.

"Everyone should have a guinea pig," he informed Yasha and Kujaku the next morning, eager to share the joy he had discovered. "Well, I mean, everyone who's responsible enough to have them and isn't allergic."

"I once had a ferret," Kujaku said brightly. "He was awesome! His name was Biggles, and he would hide my mom's keys behind the couch. And then she'd get more and more frantic when she couldn't find them, and start saying things like 'Oh sugarpops!' and 'Crumb!' and 'Darn it to a not-nice place!' She was pretty down on profanity," he smirked.

"I once had a guppy, but then he died," Yasha said solemnly. "And then my mom said I wasn't responsible enough to have a pet, but I suspect Finn was sick when we got him. He died three days later, even though I did everything right," he sighed, clearly still a bit miffed about that.

"Tragic," Bishamonten replied sarcastically, making Yasha glare at the paper in his hands.

Ferrets? Smelly weasels that were far too clever for their own good. Guppies? Fish, and all that that entailed: lots of work and zero payoff in affectionate interactions. Guinea pigs? Excellent pets, ha-ha. He won.

But all was not well in the land of Bish/Kissh. In fact, Puffball seemed to be the only thing they could agree on and never had tension over. Bishamonten had snapped at his wife over her choice of dinner, her going out with her friends, and her melancholy attitude as of late.

And she'd put a password on her email! Why would she do such a thing if she wasn't hiding something from him? It _certainly_ couldn't be that she'd figured out what he did and wanted some basic privacy.

He was aware of the tension, he wasn't dumb. Unfortunately, he seemed unable to acknowledge even to himself that the great majority of it could be traced back to him. It was her fault, and she was just being moody because women got moody, he told himself as she slept on the couch for the second night in a row.

And so when, one day in the middle of June, she told him, "We need to talk," he was unprepared for the shock he would get.

"Before I say anything else," Kisshouten told him solemnly as they sat on the couch, facing each other, "I want to tell you that I love you. I love you so much! But things have been going downhill for us, and you refuse to let me in to help you.

"I've tried to make you talk to me," she went on, tears forming in her eyes. "I tried to humor you, and I tried to coax you, and I tried to let things go, but you haven't done the same for me. We're just getting more and more frustrated with each other, and I don't think you'll admit that we're having problems.

"And that brings me to something I never wanted to do. I've been offered the chance to collaborate on a series of paintings with one of my idols, Jeanne Moulin of Toronto, Canada. It would require me to relocate to that city for six months, and Reginald…" she took a deep breath, and finished with, "I said yes, Reginald."

"You said _yes?_"

"I did," she practically sobbed. "I think we need a break from each other, because things are getting worse and worse here, and –"

"Are you saying… that you want a _divorce?_" he asked incredulously, unable to believe this. It was like she'd sucker-punched him, no warning whatsoever (in his mind, anyway).

"Of course not!" she hastened to reply. "I want to stay with you, Reginald! I want this break because I can see that if we go on like we have been, we're headed in that direction. Some time away from each other will make us re-evaluate what's truly important."

He was relieved at first, but then the meaning of her words sunk in and he snapped, "We are not headed for divorce, not if you don't want us to be. Why would you leave if you weren't contemplating it? And for God's sake, _why?_"

"After we lost Charlotte," she sniffled, "I saw a part of you that I never knew was there. You picked fights and let your anger fester, and you took it out on me. So that's why I need this break."

"But we've never even been to marriage counseling!" he said desperately. "We have a great relationship!"

"Reginald," she sighed, "I suggested marriage counseling. Remember? The day after our fight about the reference books. And you thought I was joking, and refused to entertain the idea that we might be having problems! You changed the subject and went to work!"

Yes indeed, he had. And he'd put it out of his head as mere dramatics, and never considered that just maybe, he might be taking her for granted and was taking his bad mood about Charlotte out on her. And who cared that he snooped through her emails? He had that right.

Right?

"Kisshouten, no," he pleaded, catching her hand. "Please, don't go! I'll go to marriage counseling, I'll –"

"Will you?" she asked him, clinging to his hand. "Or will you attend one or two before you decide it's stupid and you're too busy for it? Be honest with me and yourself, honey. Really look at how things have been going, and I think you'll see that this is necessary."

He really looked at how things had been going, and though it killed him to admit it, she was right. He'd been treating her pretty poorly lately, but she couldn't just leave him! She was his lotus, and if she was gone what would he do?

"Please, Kisshouten. Can't you… can't you just stay with your parents for a week or two, and it'll have the same effect?" he nearly begged. "Moving to Ontario for six months? All of a sudden, without warning me beforehand that you –"

"I tried!" she told him, swiping at her eyes. "On Monday, I wanted to talk but you were already on the phone and heading out the door. On Tuesday, I tried to bring it up but you snapped at me to leave you alone. On Wednesday, we were fighting about the invitation to Brother and Andrea's party, and you wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise!

"And now it's Thursday, and I can't put it off anymore. I've made arrangements for the flight and lodging, and I didn't tell you before because I _knew _you would hold me back out of fear. Reginald, this is an opportunity I may never be given again, a dream of mine, and I _will _return to you, I give you my word!"

He stared at her, then kissed her, hard. If he made her realize what she'd be missing, she'd stay, right?

So he worshipped and clung to her in bed, but she didn't change her mind. So he sent her bouquets upon bouquets of pink roses and alstramyria, but she still didn't change her mind. So then he took a day off from work to pledge to be her obedient manslave, but zilch.

Finally, a week before she was due to leave for the city he wanted to bomb like Hiroshima, he told her point-blank, "I will do anything you want me to if you stay. Minus sleep with a man, quit my job, or get a sex change. Or invite Victor over for dinner again," he grumbled.

What an ordeal that had been. Kujaku had hogged all of Kisshouten's attention, eaten all the food, and thanked his boss's wife by singing a song he'd written called "Friends Are Fun, And You're My Friend"… accompanied by the maracas he'd brought with him for just that event.

"Reginald, we've been over and over this," she sighed, opening Puffball's cage. "We need this break, and I'm sorry. But now I'm seeing how clingy you really are, and it's starting to scare me, honestly. I love you too, but we can't do everything together."

Lies! Why, they could be joined at the hip and he'd be happy.

…Until Shashi traipsed back into the room, and then he'd –

Kisshouten looked up in confusion as he muttered a colorful phrase, shaking his head like something would come loose if he shook hard enough. Puffball stared at him, confused as well. Did Daddy have something in his fur he wanted to get out?

"Oh, Puffball," Kisshouten said sadly, picking her pal up, "I'll miss you too. But Reginald will take good care of you, and I'll be back soon. I'll make sure he gives you some parsley every day, okay sweetiepie?"

"You should take him with you," Bishamonten said dully, as Puffball snuggled into her shoulder. "I'll be even busier than you are, and I got him for you. He's your pet, lotus."

"Thank you, Reginald," she told him quietly, squeezing the guinea pig a little tighter. "I'll ship his cage with my luggage and take him on the plane with me in a… well, a cat carrier or something so he can still have his water bottle."

And that was exactly what she did. On June 25th, 2012, Kisshouten Megan Bishamonten kissed her shell-shocked husband goodbye, crying, and carried Puffball in his cage into the line for airport security. The boar made sad, scared little noises at this noisy place filled with so many people, and why wasn't Daddy coming too?

Bishamonten stood there looking after her for ten minutes, irate travelers moving around him and muttering things like "Sure, block the way, jerk." Finally he snapped out of it and turned away, vowing to throw himself into his work. Honestly, what else could he do?

He couldn't buy a ticket and follow her, because he'd lose his job for that one. And he loved his job, dammit. He'd been a workaholic all his life, and he honestly didn't see any problem with that.

And then he had a thought. She would miss him just like he already missed her, and surely that would mean she'd cut her trip short and come back to him! One day he'd come home and she'd be there, or he'd look out the window and a taxi would pull up. She'd throw herself into his arms and cry, "I made a huge mistake, taking that break from you! I'm never leaving you again, my beloved snugglebear!"

He'd be tempted to say, "I told you so," but he'd be a gracious winner, and never let her do anything without him again. Yay.

.

And now, he had to deal with the fallout from family, friends, and nosy neighbors. As annoying as Rasetsu's suspicious looks and Shara's sniffled commiserations were, and as stupid as Brother's offer of "If you need to talk, I'm here" was, the biggest problem was a nice elderly gentleman who'd once told a friend, "My son-in-law is the perfect son-in-law, and I love him like he was my own child."

Tentei had been, while sympathetic and accepting of Bishamonten's sincere apologies, rather judgmental. He'd shown a side of himself Bishamonten had never seen before, and it was nearly scary.

"Reginald," he'd begun, in a tone like some sort of emperor, "this is your fault, you must realize. Kisshouten is right to want some breathing room, because from what she's told me you've been very rude to her lately. Not to mention the fact that you were the one to fly off the handle about some silly books at your spot at the table.

"I know," he'd said quickly, forestalling any protests, "that wives don't always appreciate a man's routine. Why, Megan keeps harping on me to stop leaving the newspaper around while I'm taking a shower. But for you to make my daughter that upset over something that insignificant demonstrates a selfishness that I do not like."

No, he hadn't yelled, and no, he hadn't insulted Bishamonten, and yes, he'd been gracious and encouraged his son-in-law to stay active, but it was still like being taken to task by a disapproving teacher. Oh well, when Kisshouten came back and admitted that she'd made a mistake, Tentei would forgive and forget.

Taishakuten, on the other hand, merely smirked and murmured, "What a silly woman."

Koumokuten cocked his head to the side, and then said proudly, "_My _wife never springs things like that on _me_."

Yasha sighed and commiserated, "How difficult. Then again, sir, I think she had a point."

Kujaku sang, "You should have gone to some sort of counseling the day after you lost the kiddo! If you had, you might be planning an evening of rose petals and serious snugglebunnies right this minute. 'Snugglebunnies' is code for some lovin'," he explained with an incorrigible grin.

And Zouchouten… Zouchouten patted Bishamonten on the shoulder and told him, "I'm sure it's hard, but things will work out. After all, it's not like she moved away and plans to never return!"

Bishamonten muttered something about if she had he would have called Homeland Security and gotten her put on the "Do Not Fly" list before she could board the plane, and changed the subject with, "How is Tenou?"

Zouchouten and Tenou had become pals. And funnily enough, the flute was hardly ever involved. Tenou had found a mentor who gave good advice and liked to do fun things outside, and Zouchouten had found a surrogate child figure who was friendly and had a great sense of humor.

"Oh, he's great. Actually," Zouchouten suggested, his tone warm, "I think _you _should spend some time with him as well. The two of you remind me so much of each other, and he asked about you the other day."

"He did?" Bishamonten replied, pleasantly surprised. "How sweet. What did he want to know?"

"Mostly how you were doing," the bigger man answered, "and… um, well, if Kisshouten was doing well too," he finished in a sheepish mumble, then explained, "I didn't mention the separation before, and he got this sad look on his face when I told him about it."

"I know how that feels," Bishamonten sighed in response. "You think things are going well, and she drops that bombshell onto the unsuspecting target of your heart."

Zouchouten paused, wondering what to say. This was an awkward subject, and he could see the validity of both viewpoints. After all, Bishamonten had been more of a pill after Charlottegate, and he could only assume it had been worse at home.

So he just smirked, "You're turning into Xavier, with a violent metaphor like that."

"I am _not _turning into that man," Bishamonten protested. "He thinks he's a movie villain! He calls his employees 'minions', and has a license plate that says 'HELLFIRE', and I once heard him refer to Aguni as his 'loyal Amazon babe on the battlefield of life'."

"Okay, so you're turning into Taishakuten," Zouchouten amended, which Bishamonten was rather pleased to hear. Great, he was picking up his idol's mannerisms! Imitation was the sincerest form of flattery, after all.

"But anyway," the head of R and D went on, "why don't you give Tenou a call? He'd probably jump at the chance to do something fun. Perhaps a walk in the arboretum, or some time at the Science Museum, I know you like that. Or just hanging out at a coffee shop. It would be good for both of you, I think."

Bishamonten considered this for a moment, then smiled and agreed, "That's a fantastic idea. I'll call him this evening. Perhaps he'd be interested in attending an opera, as I have two tickets for the production of Mozart's 'The Magic Flute'. Perhaps you'd like to come as well," he smirked.

Zouchouten mumbled something that sounded an awful lot like, "You just can't let that go, you or Xavier."

Bishamonten smiled triumphantly and returned to his office. He looked outside at the city, and it was bustling, flowers blooming on the rooftop gardens and heat rising from the asphalt and concrete. The sun was beating down, and the sky was that clear, boundless blue one could never quite capture in a photograph.

Summer… the best season of the year. Kisshouten disliked it because it got so muggy, but Bishamonten adored it, despite having to wear suits when it was over 90 degrees out.

But Shashi had loved it too. And they'd –

_I'm not going to think about her, _he told himself grouchily as he sat at his computer. _I should be thinking of how to convince Kisshouten to come back, not how much fun I had with Shashi, dammit. No matter how good she looked in a swimsuit, or how great that lake cabin was, or even how she used to play with ice._

A sudden image of a bikini-clad Shashi on a beach towel, holding up a glass of iced lemonade and blowing him an air kiss, muscled its way past the chart he was supposed to be studying. He tried to make it go away with a different image, this one of Kisshouten desperately fanning her sweaty face with a folder, but to no avail.

_Well, maybe I'll think about her a __little__, _he decided, and proceeded to lean back in his chair and let the memories come.

The lake cabin had been their vacation getaway. Of course it wasn't a _log _cabin, one far in the north woods you had to reach by canoe or miles upon miles of dirt roads. No, Shashi was a high-maintenance woman who'd insisted on bringing her curling iron, and Bishamonten probably would have capsized a canoe, having never even been a Cub Scout.

But it _was_ in a small town, and smaller than their house. "We'll be roughing it," he'd bragged to his friends, unaware that "roughing it" didn't mean "we'll have no cable or computers, and I'll have to put on sunscreen before I go out." Nope, this was a rugged adventure, one hopefully without bad weather.

Because darn it all, the cabin had no basement to go into if a tornado came. And only local channels on the TV meant they were in the sticks. And so what if they'd probably go out to eat most nights? There were no four-star restaurants in the outback.

The drive up consisted of Shashi singing every Madonna song she knew, and Bishamonten making a "Shashi, I'm envisioning you in a cone bra" comment. After which there was a period of shenanigans that necessitated pulling over, because driving while fooling around was not a good idea.

"Does it have bunk beds?" she asked as they carried their (giant) suitcases in. "My sister and I used to have bunk beds, and that would bring back memories."

"Of course it doesn't have bunk beds," he sniffed. "What kind of cabin has bunk beds?"

Yes, he was firmly convinced that cabins were like his parents' summer home, where everybody got their own room and there was an exercise area next to the study. But seeing as this was, in fact, a cabin and not a summer home, there were indeed bunk beds.

Shashi had briefly suggested that they use those for the novelty, but a flat answer of "Can you have sex in bunk beds? Not nearly as easily as in a regular bed," had made her reconsider. Oh well, it still brought back fun memories of dangling a rubber spider on a string over Kahra's head, she'd snickered.

And then… there was the lake. This particular cabin was in a secluded bay, with no annoying neighbors. This was a minus in the fact that if they needed immediate medical assistance or to borrow some bug spray they were screwed, but a plus in the fact that there would be no loud people around. Nope, no yelling children, drunken adults big-wheeling through the woods, or even barking dogs! Nothin' but woods, a swamp, and the dirt road that led into town.

"Oh Reginald," Shashi beamed as she sunbathed on the dock, "this is so nice. Although," she swatted a mosquito, "there are a awful lot of bugs."

"We have deep-woods bug spray," he assured her, spraying some at the horsefly that had dared to buzz into his bubble. "That will teach Nature, I think."

So they roasted marshmallows (and swatted bugs), swam in the lake (and swatted bugs), looked at the stars (while swatting bugs), and observed the interesting wildlife (that wasn't bugs, which they swatted while doing that too). It was August, and it was _hot. _

So when she did the ice thing, he wasn't surprised. They were lounging on the dock, wearing swim trunks (Bishamonten) and a bikini (not Bishamonten, thankfully). They had lemonade, books, bug spray, and sunglasses, and life was good.

Shashi frowned at her lemonade glass, which now had no lemonade, then grinned and fished out an ice cube. Placing it right in the hollow of her collarbone, she said rather proudly, "I know how to beat the heat."

He looked up from Our Friend the Shark: What the Ocean's Eating Machine Can Teach Us About Business, and observed the melting ice. "Yes you do," he agreed, observing a drop of water inch lower and lower. Lucky drop of water.

"You like watching it," she smirked, as the drop disappeared into her cleavage. "You think it's sexy."

"Of course I do," he replied in a purr, setting his book down. "But I'm always surprised that it isn't too cold for you, even when it's this hot out. Maybe not at first, but I've seen you do that with nine ice cubes in a row."

Who cared about "Chapter Nine: The Feeding Frenzy of the Stock Market"? This was fanservice! Private fanservice, to boot. He wouldn't have to glare at any ogling beach bums, or really interested pool patrons, or open-mouthed and drooling sauna-goers. Nope, this was _his _fanservice!

"Oh, it's not too cold," the source of such joys insisted. "It's the contrast that does it: hot everything else, cold ice. And I like when my body heat melts it, and the resulting water runs down and cools off more of me.

"You know, it feels really good. It heightens sensation, you might say," she smirked. "As I'm sure you've observed."

"Indeed I have," he murmured, looking pointedly at her bikini top. "May I assume that's part of its appeal?" After all, she was comfortable with her sexuality. She didn't turn pink and mumble lies if something turned her on.

"Bingo," she said, pulling out another ice cube. "You should try it, sexykins. Why listen to me talk about it when you could feel it yourself? There's a bit of a shock when it first makes contact with your skin, but it's a _nice _shock. And if you get too cold, I'll warm you up," she promised.

So she'd ended up running the ice over his heated body, and from there things had inevitably gotten adult, as they usually seemed to. For God's sake, watching the Summer Olympics on TV had led to sex, with a lead-in of "Those gymnasts sure are flexible, Reginald. You know, _I _took gymnastics. Want to get me on the mat and admire my form?"

He blinked as his phone rang, which was good, because he'd been about to think, "Kisshouten's not nearly that flexible."

Yes, business was a good distraction! He took the call, verbally abused an underling who had failed in her duty, and went out into the reception area. It was imperative that he kept Kujaku on task, or he'd wind up with another paperclip sculpture or something.

But no, Kujaku was being good. He was typing something, a serious expression on his face, and as Bishamonten watched, he answered the phone that had suddenly started ringing.

And then… the professionalism ended.

" 'Ello," he crooned into the phone, sounding exactly like Antonio Banderas, "thees ees the offeece of Rehinald Beeshamontahn. My name ees Veector, 'ow may I 'elp you?"

Bishamonten set his jaw at this role-playing idiocy. But at least it was better than the time Kujaku had pretended to be from India, because no one had been able to understand that accent. Then again, when he used the Spanish one, Bishamonten often got calls back asking, "Is your receptionist single? He has such a sexy voice!"

He left Kujaku purring, "Let me check hees calendahr, 'old on jeest a meenit," and returned to his desk. And then, unfortunately, the song "Un Amore Por Siempre" got stuck in his head, thanks to his idiot secretary.

Hey… wasn't there some song he'd been meaning to look up? Something… oh, that one about the woman showing up at her old boyfriend's house.

Ignoring all the times he'd snapped, "Victor, stop messing around," and "Xavier, hang up that phone and get back to work," and even "Aaron, pay attention, stop staring off into space with a longing expression," he minimized his files and pulled up Google, finding a lyrics-search site.

Hmm… lyrics. He thought, and came up with, "We were born and raised in a summer haze, bound by the surprise of our glory days". He typed it in, and read the information he'd been given.

The song was called "Someone Like You", and it was by Adele. Had Bishamonten made a habit of listening to any radio besides news, paying attention to entertainment shows or magazines, or even asking Kujaku about songs, he would have known this already. As it was, he committed the info to memory and considered buying it later on iTunes. Then again, it reminded him of Shashi and not Kisshouten, so maybe he'd pass on it.

Because as gorgeous, fun, and downright dynamite in bed as Shashi had been, that had all happened almost twenty years ago and really shouldn't be an issue anymore. So yes, he still got that tight feeling in his chest when he saw her, and yes, he wanted to push Taishakuten down a flight of stairs sometimes, and yes, Tenou was a wonderful person who he almost wished _was _his son, but –

Hmm again. Those were all pretty compelling reasons for _not _letting this go. And it wasn't like he'd _made _Kisshouten traipse off to Toronto so he could hit on Shashi, after all. Maybe… maybe this was all some sort of preordained plan. Maybe the universe was sending him a sign here.

He really should have snorted and countered that thought with, "The universe doesn't care about one puny little Homo sapiens, fool," but instead he started to smile, grasping at this illogical straw and clinging to it in a sea of trying times.

Perhaps it was fate that they'd met again! Perhaps they were _meant _to fall back in love, which couldn't have come at a more opportune time. See, the universe was taking care of him here, sending him a second object of potential affection when his wife was gone. Surely that made it okay to lust after Shashi, then.

And yes, he _was _lusting after her, he admitted to himself with a sigh. Even without the ice scenario, he'd recently thought of the heels scenario, the caramel sauce scenario, the backseat of the car scenario, and the kumquats scenario. And, in dreams, the "Oh Reginald, the past eighteen years were just a hallucination you had after you bumped your head on that doorframe! I never left you at all!" scenario.

Well, he was done pretending those didn't happen! Because leading psychologists said denying one's human urges turned people into repressed losers. Well, not in such terms, but _he _knew what they were talking about. Soon he'd be growing insane sideburns and getting addicted to coffee, if he didn't acknowledge such desires.

No, Reginald Bishamonten wouldn't turn into Aaron Zouchouten! He would –

_Hold up now, _ten years of marriage insisted. _Kisshouten left a week ago, and you're already acting like she's gone for good? Weren't you just vowing that she'd come back to you and you'd be happy forever more?_

_Well you see internal voice, _he thought serenely, _I've been given a sign. My inability to let Shashi go obviously means that I have the universe's green light to fantasize about her. Don't tell me you didn't remember the kumquats when she wore that pink dress at dinner._

…_Kisshouten fed you strawberries and cream? _the voice tried weakly.

_Yes, and Shashi sent me a picture of herself wearing nothing but strategically-placed strawberries and whipped cream, _he replied smugly. _What do you have to say to __that__?_

_How about "You __love__ Kisshouten"? _the voice snapped, which made his condescending smile falter. That was certainly true. She was his lotus, and she was kind and loving and the woman he'd married, and now that he let himself think, life without her sucked.

This was a dilemma. Obviously he loved Kisshouten, and wanted her to come back, but he might be still in love in Shashi, and certainly wanted her pretty badly. What did a man do when faced with such a quandary?

Perhaps look at the bare facts. So: he loved Kisshouten. She'd left him for six months because he'd been treating her badly, which he had a brief, sneaking suspicion might have been inspired by an unconscious desire for Shashi. He _did _want her to come back. And the thought of divorce made his heart tighten.

Other bare facts: Shashi had left him years ago. She had never explained why. She was dating his boss, who seemed serious about her. He still thought of their time together, and missed it. And leaving Kisshouten for her would be a bad move, because he had no idea if she felt anything like he did.

And then he had a flash of inspired, male-dominated perversion: he could have _both! _Ghetto thugs did it all the time, and he was far superior to them. He'd tell Shashi and Kisshouten, "I love each of you, and surely you want me to be happy? We'll just agree to all –"

Now logic and a disgusted sense of propriety made him shake his head. This wasn't an Islamic country (thank God), and that was a terrible thing to contemplate. They'd probably hate each other anyway.

So no, he wouldn't be suggesting that, or seriously entertaining that thought anymore. He would wrestle with whom he wanted, but he would never speak that thought aloud.

…But, um, it made for a great little fantasy, he had to admit. Two beautiful women, who thought he was hot? Wasn't that every man's secret hope for his life? So he allowed himself a brief escape to a land of harem-esque alone time.

"Reginald," Kisshouten would smile, wearing the white lingerie he'd given her for their last anniversary, "Shashi and I have talked, and we've decided that _both_ of us should be with you!"

"And Reginald," Shashi would beam, wearing red lingerie that said "Sex Doctor", "right now we want to take you to bed, and cater to you by –"

_Reginald Bishamonten, you deviant pervert, _his conscience snapped, bonking him over the head with a length of wood labeled "Reality". _That is immoral, illegal, and completely unfair to the women! Would you like sharing someone you love with another man?_

He sighed and shook his head once more, clicking the web browser off and forcibly returning his attention to work. Dear God… was he turning into Koumokuten, slacking off and engaging in romantic frivolity while on the clock?

_I'm not Xavier, _he hastened to assure himself, opening up a business document. _I'm going to pretend that little fantasy didn't happen and concentrate on more important things, like the stock exchange in China._

.

.

(AN: I could have very easily continued that ice scene and earned this fic an "M" rating, I'm sorry to say. Shashi messing around with Bishamonten's erogenous zones would have been pretty easy for me to write, I must confess.

Disturbing fangirlism aside, the next chapter involves bad golfing, Taishakuten having a flash of evil genius, and something downright horrible in store for Bishamonten.

Kujaku's mom's interesting substitutions for profanity are straight from my own mother, save for the last one. She never let me say "Oh my God", even. Sorry, Mom, for making fun of your aversion to strong language! Good thing she'll probably never read this.

As for the Kisshouten in a "cage" thing: I take my guinea pig, Wenham, out in the yard with just such a device, and have gotten some pretty weirded-out looks from passerby. I tend to do so in the backyard, but hey, people walk down alleys! I have to wonder what they're thinking when they don't see him in there with me.)


	9. Water Hazards

_In which our heroine plays golf and Taishakuten has an idea_

.

.

On a lovely Sunday about a week after Bishamonten's polygamous flight of fancy, Shashi found herself driving down the freeway and monologueing some more:

"…It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be, when he was in my house again. He still hasn't mentioned the past, and he seems to really like Tenou. Plus he complimented my taste in décor. See, I can have Reginald around and be totally fine!"

Yes, Bishamonten had connected with Tenou for a coffee date yesterday, and had come over to 2285 Royalty Drive to pick him up. He'd stayed to chat, and been ever so polite and non-confrontational. They'd all three of them had a pleasant conversation, and Shashi had been sad to see him leave.

Which wasn't to say that parts of it hadn't been very difficult. Tenou had told his mother all about Kisshouten's absence, which had really opened up a can of worms. The lovely wife was gone! Think of what this could mean!

But she would be back, Bishamonten had been very clear on that point. He'd proclaimed, "We're still of course in love, and when all this is over, we'll be stronger than we were before."

Shashi had really, _really _wanted to think, "I hope he's wrong," but instead forced herself to muse, _He's coping well, poor man._

He was. Unbeknownst to her, heels scenario fantasies helped with that, but he was still wrestling with the "Which one?" problem. Although to be honest he hadn't really sat down and thought very hard about it, just argued back and forth in his head whenever the issue came up.

So she'd repeated that vow in her head, and made sure to agree, "I'm sure things will work out. It's very clear to me that you two are close, and you're right, this will just make you stronger. More cookies, Reginald?"

"Why thank you, yes," he'd replied, and accepted another helping of Nilla Wafers.

"Life is unfair," she sighed as she zoomed down the freeway, clad in golfing attire and with her clubs in the backseat. "But I will triumph over such sadness and be happy in the end! And surely it's for the best that Kisshouten will come back. He'd probably fall completely apart without her."

_Wouldn't it be nice if he fell apart and needed a shoulder to cry on? _that goddamned contrary part of her brain sighed. _I could whisper words of comfort into his ear, and pat his back, and stroke his hair, and make him feel better in all sorts of fun ways._

"Shut up," she snapped to the windshield. "He's head-over-heels desperate for his wife! And she loves him back, I know it. I saw it! I'm jealous, but too bad."

"She better hold him tight, give him all her love," Taylor Swift warbled on the radio, and Shashi glared at the road. "Look in those beautiful eyes, and know –"

She switched the radio to another station, but the music gods were cruel today. Steven Tyler sang, "– And all those late-night promises, I guess they don't mean a thing. So baby what's the story, didja find another –"

She shut the damn thing off, because she just _knew _she'd get Adele if she kept searching for a song that wasn't taunting her.

"But enough of that," she said with finality, taking an exit. "I'll think about today instead. Golf with Arthur and Karl will be fun! Eighteen holes at the Mahyah Forest Golf Club, the most exclusive and expensive golf club in the city. How nice that Arthur's a member."

Yes, today was a special day. Taishakuten had decided that, as he was a genius at golf and liked having people know it, his girlfriend should see his prowess on the links. He played a lot, and won against everybody, and it would be enjoyable to show off to Shashi and Ashuraou.

…Well, Ashuraou already knew how good Taishakuten was, but another pair of admiring eyes was never turned down. Plus they had some nice heart-to-hearts on the golf course, and looked ever so handsome in their snazzy outfits. Adoring female golfers always followed them with their eyes, which meant they got a bonus score in the game of life.

As Shashi pulled into the parking lot, having been cleared by the gate security, she saw Mr. Winning At Life waiting for her, his hair tied back and a nice polo shirt on. She couldn't see it, but the logo was a little lightning bolt (Taishakuten adored thunder and lightning). His caddy was obediently carrying his clubs, and he was adjusting his glove with a smug air.

When she got out of her car, he greeted her with a fond, "Ah, there you are, Shashi. Ready for an exciting match? Karl's running a little late," he went on before she could reply, "but he shouldn't be too much longer."

"Did a situation come up and the police called him in, and he had to save the day?" Shashi asked, getting her golf bag out of the backseat. No doubt Ashuraou had thwarted a dastardly villain, being such a paragon of manly righteousness.

"No," Taishakuten answered, sounding a bit clipped. "His son wouldn't let him go without a tantrum. That abomination of a child grates on my last nerve," he muttered, then changed the subject with, "Tenou tells me he went out for coffee with Reginald."

"Oh, yes he did," she replied as she put on her own glove. "Reginald picked him up and dropped him back off. We all chatted in the living room before they went."

"How nice," Taishakuten smiled. "Reginald is a bit tightly wound these days, so I'm pleased to hear that he's taking time to relax. And how kind of you to take time out of your day to talk to the man."

"Well, he's very nice," she cautiously replied, wondering if he was driving at something. "And he and Tenou seem to have hit it off. Before he left, they agreed to do it again."

"Lovely," he murmured, and mentally added, _And I'm sure he wanted to stay for some one-on-one time with you._

Yes, Bishamonten was panting after Shashi. It wasn't overt, but it was there, Taishakuten could see it. He'd witnessed the seeds of such desire in the Entertaining Suite, and the more he watched his head of Expansion the more convinced he was that Bishamonten still had a thing for her.

Oh, he was trying to deny it, and had fought it off for a long time, but Arthur Taishakuten was an incredibly observant man. It was all in the little pauses when Shashi was brought up, the faraway looks in girly black eyes, and then of course there was the way he'd stared at her cleavage at Le Maison Jeanne-Claudette. Only for an unconscious moment, and no one else had picked up on that, but _Taishakuten _had.

As Ashuraou pulled up in the parking lot, the CEO wondered if they were headed for drama. More than likely not, but wouldn't it be _fun _if they were? He could use the scary voice and fire Bishamonten if he saw fit. He'd just get a new Expansion VP; all his Generals were, in fact, expendable.

He imagined how it would go: Bishamonten would be doodling a little picture of a stick figure with a high ponytail and impossible crested hair holding hands with another stick figure, with breasts and two-length bangs, contained in a border of hearts. He'd be whistling "Lady In Red" with a dopey expression on his face, slacking off in his duties, and Taishakuten would walk in.

Taishakuten would snatch the paper up, give it an unimpressed look, and inform his minion, "Reginald, that's my girlfriend you're mooning over."

Bishamonten would slam his palms flat on the table and get to his feet, snarling, "Not for long! I've decided that I'll steal her back, and you can't stop me! I drove Kisshouten away just for this contingency, and I'll take Shashi's heart hostage and refuse to let it go, even if my demands are met!"

"Oh you will, will you?" Taishakuten would snap, ice in his voice. "Here's a bit of news for you, Reginald… you're fired."

Bishamonten's face would go white, and he would beg, "I didn't mean it! Don't strip me of my job! Sir, I don't know what came over me! Don't sever my employment!" he'd bawl, grabbing Taishakuten's lapels and sobbing like a three-year-old.

"Too late for that," the overlord would smirk. "I'm promoting Xavier into your position, because he and I see eye-to-eye on so many things. Not to mention that he'll never hit on my girlfriend, my dear _ex_-Senior Vice President of Expansion."

"Hi Arthur!" Ashuraou's cheerful voice said, shattering that lovely daydream. "Sorry I'm late."

"That's quite all right," Taishakuten said graciously, as his party and their caddies trooped to the green. "I do hope the two of you are prepared to lose. Karl, let's be gentlemen and let Shashi go first, I think."

Shashi picked up her driver and gave it a few experimental swings, confiding, "I'm afraid I haven't played for a long time. I'm a little rusty."

Taishakuten smiled an indulgent smile. "I promise to go easy on you, dear," he replied condescendingly.

An hour later, he was pulling out all the stops… and she was still beating him.

_How can this be? _he wondered angrily as she sank a putt. Why, he beat everyone! He even beat Zouchouten, Koumokuten, and Bishamonten, and those three were excellent golfers!

There was a very simple explanation for that last one: none of the Senior Vice Presidents were stupid. Zouchouten deliberately overshot the green ("I guess I don't know my own strength"), Koumokuten hit balls into sand traps ("Oh hell… guess that means you're ahead again, sir!"), and Bishamonten messed up his putting ("Blasted turf…") because beating the boss at what he was convinced he was a god at was a bad move.

But Shashi had no such restraints to decent golf-playing. Ashuraou, who was abysmal at golf but tagged along because Taishakuten insisted, finally remarked, "I thought you said you hadn't played for a while, Shashi."

She took down her score, beaming. "Yes, almost a whole month! But it seems to be coming right back to me," she giggled, wanting to yell, "I'm winning, you pair of losers! Ha-ha-ha-HAA!"

Taishakuten gripped his putter so hard his knuckles went white. Either this woman was a female Tiger Woods, or his Generals had been going easy on him, the bastards! They'd made him complacent! How dare they not provide a challenge he could overcome, then been able to put this bi– his _lovely_, darling girlfriend in her place?

They would pay, he vowed. Oh, how they would pay…

As poor Ashuraou sent his ball into a water hazard for the third time, Taishakuten devised suitable punishments for his two-faced minions. Koumokuten's phone would be dropped out of a penthouse window so he couldn't call his wife, Zouchouten's assistant would be sent on unpaid leave so he couldn't lust for her, and Bishamonten's… uh…

Hmm. Bishamonten's wife's studio would be burned to the ground? His secretary would be given the go-ahead to paint murals on his office walls? His assistant would be shipped to Iran?

No, Kisshouten would probably come back just to kill her husband's boss with an art knife, Kujaku might well paint a scene of office caricatures including Taishakuten, and Yasha would just find his way back like a loyal homing pigeon (or Kujaku would steal Taishakuten's private jet and save Mr. Stoic).

And then, as his eyes lit on Shashi patting Ashuraou's shoulder in commiseration, Taishakuten got an idea. An _awful _idea. The CEO got a _wonderful_, _awful _idea, and it didn't involve stealing Christmas from the Whos.

No… it was better than that. It was cruel, selfish, and worthy of some sort of warlord. He would _marry _Shashi!

Not just to make Bishamonten cry in penance for golf, either. The "king" been kicking that concept around for a while, pondering the fact that he wasn't getting any younger and was unlikely to find anyone else who grinned at his management style. Truly, Shashi was his female mirror image in so many ways.

He liked Tenou as well, what a sweet boy. And Tenou's mother was a babe, one who'd look good on his arm at awards ceremonies, important dinners, and anything else one needed a babe for.

There was the fact that he wasn't in passionate love with her, but surely that would change, he assured himself, idly staring at Ashuraou's back. And of course she wouldn't say "no", why would she? He was, after all, Arthur "I'm The King" Taishakuten, billionaire CEO.

So Bishamonten could beat his head against his desk all he wanted in angsty, immature, downright silly heartbreak, because Taishakuten was going to marry Shashi and that would be that. Ha. Bishamonten would undoubtedly lament all alone, but of course he'd never say anything to his boss's smug and victorious face.

_That'll teach you to deliberately mess up your putting, Reginald. In fact, forget the phone and Ellen on unpaid leave, because this whole charade was probably your idea anyway._

"Arthur?" Ashuraou's confused voice asked. "You're wearing your 'conquering deity' smile again. You're behind, so what's going on?"

Taishakuten blinked, dispelling a vision of Bishamonten bawling into his hands while Kujaku made used Kleenex sculptures. "Never you mind, Karl. Er, have you gotten your ball out of the water yet?" he smiled, holding himself back from roaring with triumphant laughter.

"Yes," Ashuraou nodded, his caddy soaked to his waist and glaring. "But I sent it right back in again. Listen, why don't you and Shashi go ahead? I'm holding you two back anyway."

Taishakuten started to say, "What a lovely idea," but Shashi beat him to the punch with, "All right Karl, that's sweet of you. We'll see you at the clubhouse, okay?"

Alas, Taishakuten wished he'd insisted that they wait for Ashuraou soon after that, because his absence only threw into sharp relief how much better a golfer Shashi was. She got hole-in-ones, he got hole-in-fives. She sank putts with ease, he _just_ missed the hole and went too far. She had perfect shots down the middle of the fairway, his fell short and veered to the side.

"Isn't this fun, Arthur?" she said at the last link, as innocently as she could. "I'm really on it today."

He unclenched his jaw and muttered, "Yes, yes you are. How fabulous."

He managed not to throw his club into a car windshield when they came back to the clubhouse, because that would be letting her know how big a deal this was to him. They chatted about their respective jobs as they waited for Ashuraou to catch up, and that calmed him down.

Ashuraou made an appearance a mere five minutes after they'd gotten to the clubhouse, and guiltily informed them that, "Well, I was so far behind, I just gave up. My caddy was holding back tears, so I tipped him generously for his trouble."

"You're so incorrigibly kind," Taishakuten sighed, like this was a serious character flaw.

He kissed Shashi goodbye, waved to Ashuraou, and got into his silver Mercedes with the little crown hood ornament (it was custom). As he started his obscenely expensive mode of transportation, he thought, _When we're married, I'll never let her come with me to play golf again._

.

Now it was Wednesday morning, and Bishamonten found himself looking into a bowl of cereal without much enthusiasm. What had happened to the days when he had homemade waffles, and pancakes, and bacon (but not too often because it was fattening)? What had happened to the banana bread and the fruit tarts?

Well, that was a no-brainer: they'd all flown to Toronto. Not literally, but Kisshouten had been the one who made nice breakfasts and dinners. She honestly _liked _cooking, but her husband didn't. Oh, he was good enough at it, and certainly preferred home-cooked meals to something he could stick in the microwave, but he had very little patience for preparing something elaborate.

So he'd been eating a lot of sandwiches lately. And frozen pizza, and even frozen Chinese and Mexican, and, he was ashamed to admit, TV dinners. But he did have nice lunches a lot, thanks to his job, so he assured himself that it was fine. He had made a few nicer dinners, and was pleased that he got so many leftovers out of them.

_I'm too busy in the mornings to make something nice. Cereal and granola bars are just fine, and I wasn't spoiled by the waffles!_

He picked up another spoonful of Wheaties, and ate it glumly. The breakfast of champions, huh? More like the breakfast of Generals of the Boardroom who were too grouchy to prepare something better.

He assured himself that the other two probably ate Wheaties as well, or something just as boring. In reality, Koumokuten was at that moment digging into hash browns with so much ketchup and salt it was like eating French fries for breakfast, and Zouchouten was consuming grapefruit, bacon, French toast, yogurt, coffee, and an egg. Oh, the advantages of being a tall guy with muscles upon muscles.

Bishamonten briefly pondered what his assistant and his secretary were having. He wouldn't be surprised if Yasha ate granola for breakfast, and Kujaku would probably eat some sugary child's cereal.

He was completely correct, on both counts. Yasha was chowing down on "Mr. Healthy"-brand granola, and Kujaku was eating Lucky Charms, saving the marshmallows for last because they were the best part. He was also pleased with the secret leprechaun decoder ring he'd gotten (Collect All Six!).

But back to our hero. Bishamonten finished his cereal, stuck the bowl into the dishwasher, and made a beeline for the phone. It was time to call his lotus, because if he didn't his day would be jinxed… or so he thought.

He called her twice a day: before he left for work, and when he came home from work. It had become a ritual, really, and he was always let down when she said she had to go. She was always the one to end the calls, which was telling, and he knew this. But it didn't matter! Being clingy was part of his "husband" job description.

_Xavier calls his wife all the time! I'm not like that. I limit myself to two calls a day, and yes they usually run long, but at least I focus on my work without dialing Kisshouten and bragging, "Fire muffin, guess who won another advertising award?"_

So Bishamonten hit Kisshouten's speed-dial, all set to launch into a rant about how Wheaties didn't cut it, and wouldn't she please come back and make him nice breakfasts again? He'd use the "Poor me" tone, and sigh longingly a lot, and lay on the guilt trip like asphalt onto a new road. That'd do the trick.

Hmm, she wasn't picking up instantly, how odd. Why was this? Was she… she wasn't waking up next to another man, was she?

His paranoid and hypocritical mind threw a horrible vision into his thought patterns: Kisshouten, wearing nothing but a sheet, glaring at the phone and sighing, "I'm sorry Francois, that's my husband. Don't – ooh! Don't kiss my neck, you naughty boy! Tee-hee, eighteen-year-old male models are so frisky!"

Or something equally awful, never mind that he'd just last night fantasized about playing kinky bedroom games with Shashi. That was him, and Kisshouten couldn't sleep with another man! The universe would implode upon itself if that happened.

Finally she picked up, with an almost exasperated, "Hello, Reginald."

"Hello, lotus. What's wrong?" he asked suspiciously, listening very hard for another voice in the background. "You don't sound very pleased to hear from me."

"A trial separation does not necessarily entail you calling me twice a day, Reginald," Kisshouten sighed. "It's good for us to try to live on our own for a bit. I miss you too, but we have email and I was in the middle of something."

He paused, weighing two conflicting urges here. One wanted to sob, "But lotus, my life is empty without you and when I hear your voice I can go on!" The other wanted to mutter something like, "Okay dear," and spend some time fantasizing over how great it would be if Shashi showed up at his door for some private time.

"But Shashi," he'd protest as a formality, looking ever so studly, "I'm still married and you're dating my boss!"

"But Reginald," she'd sigh, looking ever so seductive, "Taishakuten isn't the man for me! Give me just one night to show you what I feel for you! I've dreamt of being with you again, and –"

"Reginald?" Kisshouten's voice asked, sounding a bit worried. "Are you there?"

"What were you in the middle of?" he asked, shooing such thoughts away. He really hoped it was something mundane.

And it was. "I'm getting ready to go into the studio. I was braiding my hair," she explained, which relieved him to no end. "I figured, I pull it back for painting so often, I met as well try something a bit more elegant than a ponytail. You know how much fun I have playing with it."

"I like playing with it too," he replied honestly. "It's gorgeous. Like the rest of you," he added, also honestly.

"Oh, Reginald… you're always so sweet," she returned, and he could hear the smile in her voice. "But listen, how about from now on you let me call you? I know your schedule pretty well, and then we can talk as long as we want, okay?"

He considered this concept. Well, it was a change, but everyone kept saying that change was good. He didn't fully buy that; yes if he changed something himself and it was in his favor it was good, but events outside of his control were bad. Still, this didn't sound _too _jarring.

"That sounds reasonable," he decided. "Yes, yes I will."

"Thank you, honey. Listen, I'm running a bit late, so I have to go, all right? I love you."

"I love you too. Goodbye, Kisshouten." And with that, he ended the call, a little miffed that he hadn't had the chance to whine about sub-par morning meals. Next time, surely.

.

That very evening, as Bishamonten watched "Business News" and ate a TV dinner, Taishakuten took Shashi to an exceedingly high-priced, exclusive, snooty Italian restaurant. Antonio's was the Le Maison Jeanne-Claudette of the Italian restaurant world, which meant that Shashi got to wear another gorgeous, expensive dress, yes! And ostentatious jewelry too, joy upon joys. It was _fun _to dress up and make bystanders look bad in comparison.

Today she'd chosen the whacking-great pearl parure: a three-strand choker, a single-strand bracelet on each wrist, dangly drops for her ears, and even a matching ring. The whole thing had been a gift from Taishakuten, which had made little cash registers go off in her head when she'd gotten it.

Yes, he bought her expensive things. Who'd turn such swag down? Ah, how fortunate that she was dating a billionaire, one who had phenomenal taste in jewelry.

Although…

She couldn't help but recall back when another (currently also very wealthy) boyfriend had bought similar but less-expensive things, and the way that the thought had counted more than the monetary value. With Taishakuten, her reaction was "Price check! …Ooh, it's worth a lot! Great, now it's mine, all mine, bwa-ha-ha-ha-haa!"

Not that a hefty price tag hadn't been nice with Bishamonten too, but it had _meant _more. Hell, she still had almost every piece of jewelry he'd given her, barring one history-laden item.

_Now is not the time to think of that, _she ordered her traitorous thoughts, as Taishakuten walked her into the restaurant with a proprietary hand on the small of her back. _Now is the time to smile our brilliant smile and look ever so gorgeous._

Alas, there was a party ahead of them so they had to wait. But for entertainment, one of the party was underdressed, and was being denied a seat.

"Look," the fool wheedled, "I come here a lot! I'm the son of Bernard 'Big Bucks' Brownberry, Billy-Joe Brownberry! My dad's a famous racecar driver, you uppity little prick!"

"Then you should know that Antonio's has a strict dress code, sir," the maitre d' smirked. "This is not Olive Garden, and business-casual doesn't cut it. Perhaps down in the redneck states it does, but we're not in them, now are we?"

"Billy-Joe," the woman who was probably his date whined, "I told you to dress up! Now we'll have an uneven number of conversationalists! I'm so humiliated!"

Taishakuten and Shashi exchanged smug smiles as Billy-Joe desperately tried, "What if I paid you to –?"

"Not a chance, sir," the maitre d' gleefully responded. "You'll just have to leave, and if you come back with a tuxedo on, we'll allow you in. As it is, sir, I must insist that you move along and exit the establishment."

Billy-Joe turned red, in both embarrassment and anger, and stomped back out to the parking lot. The rest of his snickering and/or humiliated party was shown their table, and the grinning pair of beautiful, well-dressed people stepped up to the maitre d', who was also grinning.

"The name on the reservation, sir?" the tuxedo-clad host asked the tuxedo-clad CEO.

"Arthur Taishakuten."

"Ah yes, there you are, sir. We are _especially _glad to see you, and everything has been arranged as per your specifications. Please come this way, and thank you for having the sense to wear acceptable clothing," the maitre d' said in a haughty and martyred tone. Sometimes life was just _so _difficult.

So Shashi and Taishakuten sat down at a table for two in the most coveted spot on the floor, and ordered ludicrously expensive imported wine, and decided on meals so pricy, one could have almost bought a plane ticket to Florida… first class.

"By the way Shashi," he said casually as the waiter left, reaching into his pocket, "I've recently made a decision."

"Oh?" she asked curiously, noting his serene smile. "Did you… ooh, did you decide to fire Aaron or Xavier?" she asked in hopeful tones. "Or both?"

"No, not that," he replied, dashing her hopes. "But Shashi…"

He pulled out a tiny box, opened it on the table, and purred, "If you marry me, you can lord it over them all you want. You can swing golf clubs in their offices, even."

She stared at a ring with a stone big enough to rival royal jewels, set in a platinum band with even _more _diamonds. Bling? This thing was BLINGGG. It would make rappers cry in shame that their ice failed to match up to this piece of jewelry, which also featured intricate, tiny Art Nouveau-style etchings on the band.

"Arthur," she breathed, "it's beautiful."

"Oh do say 'yes', Shashi," Taishakuten cajoled. "We're so similar in so many ways. I'm the king of my company, you're the queen of your clinic. I think we'd make an excellent married couple, dear."

She thought on this. While it was true that they did indeed think alike, and she liked him quite a bit, she wasn't exactly in fairytale, flowers-and-birds, True Love with him. But then again, being in True Love didn't guarantee you got a happy ending with a white horse and a handsome prince who serenaded you with "Lady In Red", she knew that all too well.

And this way, she'd get mountains of assets, yay. And Tenou would finally have a father. And maybe she _would _eventually fall in love with Taishakuten, it would be wise.

All this flashed through her head in a matter of seconds. And as Taishakuten began to frown at her lack of response, she sighed, "Oh Arthur, yes I _will_ marry you. How indescribably wonderful!"

Having noticed the pause, he refrained from rolling his eyes at her exceedingly bright tone and sunny smile. Instead he patted her hand and chuckled, "Why thank you, Shashi. This makes my day."

As the wait staff, who had been ordered to assemble and wait for his signal, started to clap and cheer, he slipped the rock onto her left ring finger and beamed. Oh yes, he'd won. He'd triumphed over his little sycophant who smiled at his face and threw their golf games behind his back, thus making him look stupid.

_Well guess who looks stupid now, Reginald. Guess who gets to moon over an unattainable lover from this day on, and watch as I marry her. Guess who might very well have some sort of breakdown, wouldn't that be funny?_

.

The next morning, Bishamonten was confused. Taishakuten looked… proud of himself, more so than usual. During the ritual briefing he'd smirked through the entire thing, even when Koumokuten pointed out, "Microsoft is still beating us, sir."

"Perhaps that's so," he'd murmured unconcernedly, "but I feel like a winner today, Xavier."

"Hey, that's the way to feel," Koumokuten had agreed, nodding fervently. "Positive attitudes, that's what wins the war. That and starving out our rivals in a siege of great products, great ads, and great stock options."

"So true," Taishakuten had smirked, as always willing to hear a combat metaphor. Souma had rolled her eyes behind his back, having had it up to here with such dumb things.

When the meeting ended, Bishamonten completely missed the triumphant look his boss sent him, as his back was turned. Zouchouten noticed, and sent Karura a quizzical look. What the heck was going on here? Maybe Taishakuten had given his right-hand man a pay cut, and just hadn't told him yet.

"Sir," Yasha said an hour or so later, "Victor has something he wants to show you."

"It had better be important," Bishamonten grumbled.

More than once, the "show-and-tell" had been so unimportant he wanted to beat Kujaku's head against his desk. Most of the time it _was _something that needed his attention, but you just never knew with that man.

The redhead recalled the final paper clip placed on the sculpture of Benjamin Franklin, which had involved a sung fanfare. And the last citation on the treatise on root beer. And the unveiling of little copic chibis of everyone Kujaku knew in the skyscraper, ranging from Taishakuten to other secretaries to every single cafeteria worker. All of those had been stupid, and why the hell couldn't he do such things on his lunch break?

"I don't know if it's actually important or not," Yasha sighed wearily. "All I know is that he wants you to come out."

"Very well."

Bishamonten closed his files, pushed his chair back, and walked out into the reception area. He saw no sculptures or sketchbooks, but he _did _see a notebook. It was Kujaku's work notebook though, so perhaps things would turn out all right.

"What is it, Victor?" Bishamonten asked a tad grumpily. "And make it fast, I was working on something."

"I have written a haiku about our office," Kujaku said serenely, for all the world a Shinto monk living in a monastery with cherry blossoms all around. "In fact, I have written three, all of which James hates." In the background, Yasha stapled something very violently.

Bishamonten could see why, and snapped, "Victor, I don't want to hear your haikus. Why can't you draw something or read a book, or dust the light fixtures if you're bored?"

"Artie says the third one is the best," Kujaku grinned, flipping his notebook open. "See Reginald, the _CEO _thinks my creativity is to be encouraged and not smothered. And he's the big boss! We should all make sure to listen to what he says, don't you think so?"

Bishamonten often wondered just _why _Taishakuten encouraged Kujaku, and many times thought it was just to torment everyone else. And he was partially right, because Taishakuten loved to be amused by other people's emotional stress. The other reason was that he found Kujaku funny and yet worthy of respect, as the secretary probably could have been the CEO himself had he wanted to.

"Here's the first one," Kujaku said, completely ignoring Bishamonten's earlier orders. "Ahem:

Staples! I love them

They connect paper like lives

We need more of them."

"We do, actually," Yasha muttered, "but can't you just submit the forms to the supply team like you're supposed to? There's no need to write silly poems about the things, Victor. Reginald's face is getting red again."

"Second haiku," Kujaku went on, ignoring this clear danger sign.

"I want a lunch break

So I can have a sandwich

Alas! I cannot.

"I'm hungry," he said by way of explanation, "but somebody in this room who will remain anonymous said I have to wait until twelve-thirty, which is totally unfair because it's only eleven-fifteen! Take pity on me, nameless overlord," he wheedled. "My stomach is shrinking, and I need food!"

The nameless overlord simply snatched the notebook out of Kujaku's hands, and held it out of his reach.

"No," Bishamonten downright growled, "you can't take your break until it's the scheduled time. And no more haikus! I don't want to ever hear them again, and –" he ripped the haiku page out and crumpled it up, "I'm putting this in my personnel report."

"Reginald's a jerk," Kujaku recited from memory,

"Who needs to lighten up and

Learn how to laugh loud."

Before Bishamonten could reach out and strangle Kujaku, an announcement came over the PA system: "Will all the executives please come to Media Room A? Mr. Taishakuten has an important announcement to make. Please assemble by eleven-thirty. That is all, thank you," Souma recited, then was gone.

All three men blinked in surprise at such short notice, and looked quizzically at each other. What was so important that it demanded _all _the executives' attention, with no warning beforehand?

"Do you think he's got cancer?" Yasha asked, sounding very hopeful.

"D'you think he's pulling a Darrel and running off to Nepal?" Kujaku asked, sounding very pleased by that possibility.

Darrel Jikokuten had been the Senior Vice President of Real Estate for only a year before he'd heard the call of the monk's life, and uprooted his horrified wife and excited fourteen-year-old daughter to move to that bastion of Buddhism. His associates had begged him not to go, but he'd insisted, and that was that.

Kujaku occasionally got postcards from him, actually, and so did Bishamonten. He'd changed his name to Dhartarastra Jikokuten and apparently shaved his head bald, and sprinkled his communications with talk of cosmic harmony and how Taishakuten probably had really bad karma. Kujaku wrote back, Bishamonten sent such idiocy straight into his paper recycling.

"Victor, of course I don't think that, because Taishakuten would never do such a stupid thing," Bishamonten sniffed. "If he were to ever decide that he no longer wanted to be CEO, he would award himself a severance package so generous, the company would be hard-pressed to recoup its losses. And since he loves his job, that's not very likely for many years."

"Okay, _you _think up an explanation then," Kujaku shot back. "I was joking, but honestly, I have no idea whatsoever. What's he up to? And to order you all to come down there in fifteen minutes with apparently no warning beforehand makes me worried, to be perfectly blunt. It must have been a sudden change, whatever it is."

"Well, James and I will find out," Bishamonten snapped in response. "In ten minutes, we'll go down there. But in the meantime, I have something I have to finish up."

He tossed the crumpled-up haiku page into the recycling with a throw Michael Jordan would have been proud of: over his shoulder and while walking away. Yasha's eyebrows rose in impressed surprise, and Kujaku immediately wadded up another piece of paper and tried to emulate his boss.

He missed, but such was life.

.

Fourteen minutes later, Zouchouten and Karura entered Media Room A for a surprise. Tenou and Shashi Prince were standing on the stage, Shashi looking pretty darn smug and Tenou looking pretty darn pleasant. Souma was onstage as well, looking pretty darn resigned.

Zouchouten couldn't help but wonder why they were here, and what this might mean, and if Shashi would snipe at him for something little again. He'd encountered her numerous times when picking Tenou up, and she was always ready with a haughty tone and a cutting comment whenever her son wasn't there.

"I don't like her," he murmured to his assistant as they walked towards the stage. "She's so conceited, and has it out for me for reasons I can't understand."

"She _is _dating Taishakuten," Karura murmured back, "so her tastes are suspect, you know. _I _like you, but I hate him."

Before he could explore the possibility that she found him fantastic, Tenou caught sight of him and called, "Hi Aaron!" He waved and moved forwards to the edge of the stage, grinning even harder than before.

"And hi to you too, Tenou. This is my wonderful assistant, Ellen Karura," Zouchouten smiled, indicating her. "Ellen, this is Tenou Prince."

"Nice to meet you, Tenou," Karura smiled, the "wonderful" compliment apparently going right over her head. Souma sighed at this, giving Zouchouten a "You poor sap" look of sympathy, which he pretended not to notice.

"Hi Ellen, it's nice to meet you too. Do you –?"

"How are you, Tenou?" Koumokuten butted in, having torn himself away from Aguni's latest phone call with much regret. He smiled at his hopefully future son-in-law and asked, "What's the big announcement?"

"Hi, Mr. Koumokuten," Tenou said, a bit nervously. "Well, I can't tell you that. It's a surprise, and Arthur wants to be the one to make it. He'll be out soon."

"Call me 'Xavier'," Koumokuten urged in a chummy tone. "Everybody calls me that. Right Edward?" he demanded to Varuna, who nodded hastily and agreed, "Yes, Mr. Koumokuten, sir!"

"Except for this dumbass," Koumokuten muttered as Bishamonten and Yasha came in.

Bishamonten too was startled to see Tenou and Shashi, but focused more on the mother than the child. She was wearing a lovely skirt-suit ensemble, and she looked damn good in it too. One of her hands was in her pocket, and she seemed very pleased with herself. He nudged Zouchouten aside none to gently and moved over right in front of her.

"Hello, Shashi," he greeted, having had the thought that now was as good a time as any to explore that desire to, well, explore their relationship a bit more. Why not? There was no time like the present, after all, and she seemed like she was in a great mood.

"Hello Reginald," she returned, suddenly seeming a bit guarded. She almost looked like she wanted to take a step back, but was too polite to do so.

"Shashi," he said somewhat awkwardly, staring up at her, "I've been… well, I've been thinking lately, and I –"

A prerecorded fanfare interrupted him, and Taishakuten made his entrance like the President of the United States, except with more ominous music. Cameras flashed from the assembled media, Tenou came back over to stand on his left side, and Shashi stepped back to be on his right. The CEO gripped the podium, smiling in a rather smug way, and began his announcement.

"Thank you all for coming. As you all know, the life of a chief executive officer is a difficult and often lonely one."

It all suddenly made sense to Bishamonten, and his eyes widened involuntarily. Next to him Zouchouten felt the same thing, just with more dread. Next to _him_,Koumokuten blinked and wondered how being the man with all the power and having no less than three vacation mansions was difficult.

"So I have made a change," Taishakuten informed the world, as more cameras flashed. "And that change is…" he reached out and took Shashi's left hand, and a giant diamond sparked in the light, "to become engaged to the lovely Dr. Shashi Prince."

A murmur of pleased surprise swelled through the room as a whole, and now there were so many cameras Bishamonten wondered, in the non-stunned part of his mind, how anyone onstage could see. And there was obedient, fervent applause as well, and he was startled to realize that his hands were clapping along. Hard.

Taishakuten said something else, but his second-in-command didn't hear a word of it. How could this happen? What about _him?_ What about poor Reginald Bishamonten, who had to eat Wheaties for breakfast and had just been about to suggest that he take Shashi and Tenou out for a meal? What about the fricking kumquats and the caramel sauce?

Clearly, the universe didn't care about one puny little Homo sapiens at all.

Koumokuten's cell phone suddenly rang, a familiar song playing: "Never mind I'll find someone like you…" He stared at it in shock as Adele continued, "I wish nothing but the best for you two –"

He answered it, glaring. "Tamara," he muttered before he used his best business greeting.

Bishamonten fought the sudden and violent desire to hit something as Shashi posed for a picture with her fiancé. Tenou looked on, beaming, and Taishakuten smiled like he'd been given dominion over the world. Zouchouten seemed at a loss as to what he should do, and decided to smile as if this was a good thing.

Bishamonten turned and left the room, went back to his office, and slammed the door.

.

.

(AN: Ha… who figured out the "How The Grinch Stole Christmas" reference before I mentioned the Whos? Taishakuten makes a great Grinch ["How Tai Stole Tenkai Corporation"? "How The CEO Stole The MILF"?]

"Dhartarastra" is the deity known as "Jikokuten" in Japan's real Sanskrit name. "Darrel", "Dhartarastra"… yeah. Just like "Nina" and "Ninja", and "Nathan" and "Nahga", the name is bordering on a pun. Only did it for those three; the other first names are just because I thought they sounded nice with the "Rg Veda" last names. Save for "Arthur", which is of course the name of the legendary king of the Britons.

Anyway, poor Bishie… his wife moved to Canada, his secretary wrote a haiku about staples, and his former lover is marrying the man who signs his paychecks. But don't worry, because Koumokuten isn't about to take this terrible development lying down. Next chapter we'll see him plot behind the scenes and try to rope Zouchouten into it too.

I don't own Taylor Swift's "Teardrops On My Guitar" or Aerosmith's "What It Takes", and the lyrics were used without permission.)


	10. Little Conspiracies

_In which Koumokuten takes a stand against the forces of bitchy Shashi and jerky Bishamonten_

.

.

Late that afternoon, in an almost deserted conference room, Koumokuten set his coffee down emphatically, having just finished a monologue of his own. "…And _that's_ why we have to drive him into her arms," he said with finality.

Zouchouten just stared, then finally managed a stunned, "Let me get this straight: you want us to break up Reginald's _marriage_,because," he ticked the reasons off on his fingers, "he's a jerk, Shashi's a bitch, and Tenou." He seemed unable to believe this.

Koumokuten nodded and leaned in conspiratorially, confirming, "Yes. Aaron, look. He's always been kinda uncaring, but lately he's been just plain nasty. I mean, he snarled at Ellen," he said as innocently as he could. "The nerve, huh?"

Zouchouten glared and barked, "Don't try to manipulate me into this. Ellen is perfectly capable of taking care of herself."

Koumokuten inwardly snapped his fingers and muttered, "Nuts." Outwardly, he tried another tactic: "Here's another point of consideration then. We've known him for eleven years, and he's been Mr. Logical, contentedly slashing the throats of any company or misbehaving executive he needs to. But what about before we knew him? I mean, if he goes into a hole-in-the-wall bar and belts out 'Lady In Red', he was a more human guy then."

Zouchouten considered this and allowed, "That's no doubt true. I mean, we're different."

Koumokuten smiled triumphantly and replied, "Exactly. I mean, I used to have a mullet and wear kohl and wanted to be the next Ozzy. In high school, but still."

Zouchouten emitted a sighed, "I used to be very into rugby and was in school to be a scientist. Okay, I get that point, but if we hate Shashi so much shouldn't we want to get rid of her, not have our friend fall back in love with her? And I thought you _wanted _Tenou to be Taishakuten's stepson."

Koumokuten shook his head and confidently said, "No, because nothing is worth having that ho as Taishakuten's wife. She'll abuse her power, I just know it. As for the rest, if Reginald loved her back then, she must not have been so bitchy.

"And here's the kicker: they'll make each other happy! They'll turn back into that guy who sings in a bar and that gal who… um… isn't as mean to us."

Zouchouten thought that was needless optimism, and muttered, "Uh-huh. I'd like to hope so, but let's be realistic here. We can't expect –"

Koumokuten didn't want to be realistic, and plowed ahead with, "Third bullet: Tenou. He needs a dad, and Reginald wants a kid, so –" he held up a hand before Zouchouten could jump in, " – shut up, I'm still talking here. So Reginald gets back together with Shashi, and becomes adoptive dad to _that_ kid.

"And then," he said fervently, "I can tell Tamara to forget him, because there's no way in hell I'm letting my little girl marry Reginald's stepson."

Zouchouten looked stunned, and muttered, "Xavier –"

"Dammit Aaron," Koumokuten snarled, "she wrote him a song! 'Where You Go I Go, Tenou'. She sings it all the time, and it's driving me nuts! And Aguni wants to rip out her vocal chords, I can tell."

Zouchouten gave up on what he'd been trying to say. "You poor man," he commiserated, patting his buddy on the back. The exceedingly tortured Koumokuten dropped his head into his hands, groaning, "Yes."

"But Xavier," Zouchouten said quietly after a moment, "you're forgetting one very important person."

"Oh," Koumokuten sighed, lifting his head, "we'll introduce Taishakuten to a model, or a socialite, or a babe off the street, for crying out loud."

Zouchouten's brows snapped together in a glower as he replied, "Not him. Kisshouten. You know, Reginald's _wife_. You remember her, that lovely woman he's married to, the one who gave you that painting for your wedding."

Koumokuten had the grace to look guilty as he mumbled, "Oh. Yeah. Kisshouten."

Zouchouten leaned in and stuck an accusing finger in his face, looking rather dangerous. "I will not be a part of any plan that ruins a marriage," he rumbled, his eyes narrowed. "I know they've hit a rough patch, but every marriage gets those, dammit."

Koumokuten rallied a sneer and a haughty, "How do you know? You've never been married." _God, this man is a hypocrite._

Zouchouten's eyes went stony. "That's what you think," he growled, so softly Koumokuten barely heard it.

"Whaddya mean?"

Zouchouten sighed, gazing into memories, and revealed, "I was twenty-three years old. Her name was Kelly. She was nineteen, and we were only married three years before she died." He turned a glare back to his friend and finished with, "So shut up."

Koumokuten was speechless, then he managed, "Sorry. But, um, you know, it's very possible that maybe Kisshouten and Reginald are done without knowing it. I mean, Melissa and I hated each other since Tamara was seven!"

Zouchouten leaned his chin into a hand and sighed, "Who am I to judge if they're done or not? I don't sneak around their house and eavesdrop and go through their emails, so I can't know."

"Now there's an idea!" the head of Marketing said brightly, visions of sneaking around Bishamonten's house in ninja gear dancing through his head. Cool, he even had two katanas in them.

A pointed, heated glare made him sigh, "Never mind." He took another tack and suggested, "But look at it like this: neither Reginald or Shashi or even Kisshouten is happy right now. She's moved out!"

"It's a trial separation, and –"

"And those usually lead to a divorce, c'mon now," Koumokuten huffed. "Maybe we'd be doing them a favor if we helped them realize it's not working." He played his newly dealt trump card then: "Aaron, I can tell you loved Kelly."

"Yes." It was a matter-of-fact, quiet assent, and Zouchouten continued, "I'm thankful every day that I had those three years."

"So," Koumokuten coaxed, "don't you think Reginald deserves an all-consuming love like that? Even if it is with a woman we'd like to see fed to the crocodiles?"

Zouchouten frowned again and grumbled, "That's taking our dislike of her a little far… but I see what you're getting at." He stood up and decided, "I'll think about it, Xavier. Don't expect an affirmative answer, but I will think on it."

With that, he turned and left. Koumokuten stared after him, then picked up his coffee, thinking, _Wow. So Aaron… is that why you like a younger woman? Because she reminds you of your dead wife?_

.

Kujaku was typing furiously, singing "What Is Love" loudly, when Bishamonten came into work the next day. What an awful choice of songs.

"Victor!" Bishamonten roared, suddenly enraged. "Shut up!"

"Baby don't hurt me, don't hurt me," Kujaku continued gleefully, paying no attention whatsoever.

His boss reached for a paperweight to lob at his head before he realized what he was doing. When he did, he instead yanked Kujaku's earbuds out, the tinny sound of Haddaway leaking into the office.

Kujaku frowned, "Reginald, I need music to concentrate on this exceedingly boring task you've set me."

"Don't sing it aloud," Bishamonten gritted, pinning him with a burning glare. "You may listen to whatever you want until someone comes in, but if you sing anymore I will confiscate your iPod, and you won't get it back for a _week!_"

"That seems unnecessarily harsh," Yasha said from behind his boss. As Bishamonten turned to glare at him too, the Best Executive Assistant continued, "Not the confiscating part, but the not getting it back for a week part. One's iPod is often an integral part of one's life. For example, I –"

"Thus why I made that threat," Bishamonten snarled, tugging Kujaku's earbuds for good measure. "It's important that he shuts up. James, go get me my coffee. Victor, obey me. I'll be in my office working on the Wardsworth account."

He stormed in and slammed the door, throwing himself into his chair with a thunderous expression on his face. And he'd lied: he didn't work on the Wardsworth account.

Oh, he _tried_ to, for about eight torturous minutes, but finally he just gave up and scowled at his computer screen. What was love? Love was a fucking nuisance that betrayed you and got engaged to your boss, or ran off to Toronto and made you eat Wheaties for breakfast. Love, to be blunt, _sucked_.

He'd already hashed out his feelings about Shashi's engagement last night, but it was time for the replay:

_She loves Taishakuten. I mean, I guess I knew she probably did, but I convinced myself she wasn't serious about him. Idiot! She obviously doesn't lie awake at night and think about the caramel sauce or the kumquats. Or the ice, or the singing, or the… the anything!_

_This isn't fair! I just decided I might want to rekindle our relationship, and that's when Mr. Wonderful proposes. The universe must hate me for no good reason, because it's shoving irony down my throat._

He took a series of deep breaths to calm down. Badmouthing Taishakuten, even in the privacy of his own mind, was not a smart thing to do, and he honestly did admire him and liked him an awful lot. How dare he expect that the CEO bow to his own unspoken desires, when he clearly loved Shashi? That was childish.

So perhaps it would be best to try to forget the kumquats and caramel sauce. Perhaps it would be best to focus on Kisshouten, who had been clear that she was going to come back and loved him. Perhaps it would be best to accept the fact that Shashi was with Taishakuten, no matter how he wanted to throw a tantrum about that.

Because honestly, what else could he in all sense do? Storm into Taishakuten's office and challenge him to a duel for her hand, when she quite obviously had chosen the CEO? No, that would be stupid, stupid, stupid. And he'd probably lose anyway, and then Taishakuten would fire him with an evil grin.

And Kisshouten back… that wouldn't be bad at all. He loved her, and perhaps this just went to show that he should count his blessings and concentrate on his wife, because the alternate love interest hadn't worked out.

Unfortunately, he could already tell that pretending he didn't want Shashi wasn't going to happen. But hopefully in time, he'd get over her, and not have those brief, blinding visions of tying Taishakuten to his boss chair, hoisting his fiancée over his own shoulder, and climbing up the ladder of the chopper all set to take them to Cancun.

So he nodded firmly, and succeeded in getting his work for that morning done. As he exited his office for a lunch appointment, Kujaku waved and picked up the ringing phone. Bishamonten braced himself for a ridiculous accent, and he was not disappointed.

"Konnichiwa!" Kujaku said into the phone, brightly and with perfect Japanese pronunciation. "You have leached the offeesu of Leginald Bishamonten, Vice Plesident of Expansion! I am Kujaku-san, how may I assist you?"

Bishamonten just _hated _the Japanese accent. It was nasal, pronounced with exaggerated, fervent happiness, and sprinkled with phrases like "Arigatou!" and "desu." Alas, the younger generation seemed to be impressed that they were talking to a real live Japanese person (or so they thought), and sometimes asked things like, "Do you know Ayumi Hamasaki?"

So he snapped, "Victor! Act your age!"

Kujaku pouted, and said into the phone, "One moment, I must pass you on to another secletaly." He waited a few seconds, then continued, "Hi, this is Ron. Kujaku had to go make a copy. How can I help you?"

Well, this was, if not completely mature, at least a step upwards. Still, Bishamonten stood and glared through the call, and when Kujaku hung up he growled, "Victor, I have _had _it with your impressions of foreign people. From now on, if you don't speak normally, I will dock your pay a little more each time."

"Aw, Reginald," Kujaku whined as Yasha smirked, "I was just trying to bring a little humor to the boring office life!"

"Office life with you is anything but boring," Bishamonten sighed in exasperation. "Honestly. And you must realize that I'm incredibly lenient with your quirks. Xavier would have fired you a thousand times over, and Aaron would have been exceedingly un-amused and probably done the same."

"If I worked for Xavier," Kujaku said cheerfully, "I'd booby-trap his chair, put chewed gum on his doorknob, and change his ringtone to 'Weird Al' Yankovic's 'Do I Creep You Out?' He's a jerky, arrogant, disturbingly violent-minded mofo, but Reginald, _you're _a smart, fun, and devilishly clever boss, and I like working for you!"

"Flattery won't make me change my mind on the accents," Bishamonten muttered, secretly pleased to hear all that. "I mean it. See you after lunch, both of you, and James, I want the second file for Wardsworth on my desk when I come back."

As he stomped off down to the parking garage, Kujaku broke into, "It's Friday, Friday, gotta get down, it's Friday," as Yasha turned red in annoyance and clenched his fists. Oh, he'd hoped that song had died a year ago, but Kujaku never got tired of annoying things. Curses.

.

Weeks of angsty and irritable Bishamonten passed, and it was now August. Shashi hummed a happy little tune as she surveyed her spic and span living room, and the lyrics went like this:

"I'm such a gorgeous goddess – I'm going to marry a gazillionaire – My house is on the market – And I can move away from neighbors with stupid hair!"

Ha, yes. Soon she would wave "bye-bye" to Hakuryuu and Seiryuu, and their annoying, shrimpy cousin too. Well, not _soon_-soon, but by this time next year, she'd be Mrs. Arthur Taishakuten and living in the McMansion he'd recently purchased. And then they'd have security-system-protected fences, and she wouldn't have to see headbanded young men gamboling about on their front lawn.

She was pleased with her decision to marry Taishakuten. It was the _right _decision, she assured herself as she sat down at her dining room table with a cup of tea. A ready-made father for Tenou! Access to a billionaire's bank accounts! A fabulous new home! A sexy future husband!

She recalled their romantic night in his current mansion, one replete with fancy food, pricy wine, silk sheets, and violin music on the stereo. Yup, it had been time to take it to the next level, which they had.

But to be totally honest, Taishakuten had been… not so great in bed. He hadn't been _bad_, but he'd acted like he was humoring her. And sadly, his performance and certain other things hadn't exactly measured up to some people.

But oh well. Surely as time went on he'd get better, as they got more used to each other. Surely as time went on he'd pick up on her needs, and not immediately ask, "Well, may I get up now?" Surely as time went on he'd appreciate her for the sexy bombshell she was, and compliment, "My, that was exciting!"

Why wouldn't he? She was damn hot, and in fabulous shape for forty-three (she'd just had a birthday). He'd fall for her charms, she was sure.

And –

"Mother? I'm going next door now," Tenou said, breaking into her thoughts.

She looked over with a resigned twist to her mouth. He was wearing his new "Godsmack" tank top and jeans, that chain as always around his neck and his hair loose today. And a bright, excited smile, in contrast to her own sour expression.

"Tenou honey," she said shortly, "remember that I want you home by five. And sweetie, please, next time wear some nicer jeans instead of those old ratty ones."

Where had he even gotten them? Unbeknownst to her, he'd hit up Ragstock, and actually found a nice assortment of vintage music t-shirts in addition to the Godsmack tank. Second-hand clothing stores, he was starting to realize, rocked the house.

"All right," he agreed with a martyred air. "Bye!"

And with that he was gone, off to the house that had become the symbol of all that was wrong with the youth today, never mind that the Waters clan despised hip-hop, never did drugs, and had a great sense of social responsibility.

Shashi wanted to call the police on Seiryuu and Hakuryuu, for a number of reasons. Reason One: they had corrupted her son, who'd been so normal and near-perfect. Tenou had been on track to be a doctor too, and now he was convinced he should be a chord-crunching, groupie-groping metalhead! He'd get killed in a mosh pit, he wouldn't even make it to being a performer.

Reason Two: they were exhibitionists. They ran around shirtless in their yard during the summer, the perverts! And they were undoubtedly trying to hit on her. They probably flashed people on the street for kicks, and wandered around completely naked at home.

Which brought her to Reason Three: they were incestuous gay lovers, they _had _to be. Why else would they live together? And she had learned that Hakuryuu was great at cooking while Seiryuu could barely microwave a burrito, which obviously meant that he traded sexual favors for food.

In reality…

Hakuryuu and Seiryuu had in no way whatsoever suggested to Tenou that he should change his career path. But they were nice enough to mentor him on the electric and suggest inspiring music, and even let him borrow a ton of classic and current rock CDs (his mother had taken one look at HIM's "Uneasy Listening Vol. 2" and had to go lie down).

And they really weren't exhibitionists; rather, they got hot, knew _they _were hot, and thought being shirtless was rebellious, as they were big on sticking it to the man. Also, while they wished Shashi liked them, they had no designs on her at all.

She'd once come over to borrow some sugar, and both had attempted small talk and bribing her with cookies and lemonade. Or chips and tea. Or anything, but she would have none of it. She'd taken one look at their shirtless selves and been convinced she'd interrupted a make-out session.

Needless to say, she'd grabbed her sugar and left as quickly as possible, leaving Seiryuu to wonder if they'd ever get her to like them. Hakuryuu had wondered if she was still mad about the pansies.

Finally, the ludicrous idea that they were secretly getting it on: completely and totally false. Had anyone suggested something like, "Can I watch you two kiss?" both would have gone completely berserk in disgusted rage. They lived together because they'd always been close, they'd pooled their money to afford their home with soundproof walls, and there was no sense in a single man buying a giant house for himself.

This way, they could have the music room from Heaven, a pool, and so much room for the cats that the pets hardly even noticed the outside world. Not to mention that when Ryuu was old enough, he could move in too! Their family was pretty close-knit, and boy, the holidays would be extra fun in that house.

Well, Shashi consoled herself, soon she'd move into a new mansion with Taishakuten, and never see them again. And surely Taishakuten would forbid Tenou from playing the electric, and straighten him out. She had attempted that herself, and been shocked when her obedient baby boy abruptly became a rebellious teenager.

"Mother," he'd smiled, "I really want to do this, and I'm quitting fencing to play the guitar. It's something I have to do for myself, and you honestly can't stop me."

He'd said all this in a cheerfully polite tone, which weakened her defenses. He wasn't being bratty, so how could she yell at him and law down the law? Plus, he'd just sneak over to the neighbors' and practice there.

Still, she'd made him promise to not quit fencing just yet, and to hold off on buying a guitar of his own. And swear not to go to concerts and try drugs, pick up chicks, or even sing any rock songs around her. And to turn that Nickelback junk down (she'd thrown a fit at "Follow You Home" and "Something In Your Mouth").

She hated this good-natured defiance! What had happened to her son being the perfect child?

Aguni's amused voice echoed in her head: _"It's coming. He's seventeen, and it's inevitable that he'll do something you don't want him to."_

Shashi groaned and thunked her head against the table. Why couldn't he have just done something like, oh… like trying beer at a party? Or downloading X-rated videos? Or getting a speeding ticket? All of those were of course bad, but at least they didn't involve giving up on a sport they'd spent tons of money and time on, for the love of screeching guitars.

She had a horrible vision of Tenou coming back from the neighbors', wearing a headband of his own and with his shirt off. He'd grin, "Guess what Mother? Due to my regular exposure to shirtless men and lewd lyrics, I've decided that I'm in love with Nathan! Of course Seiryuu and Hakuryuu approve of this."

_Calm down, _her sensible side snapped. _We don't __really__ think they'd seduce him, or we wouldn't let him ever see them again. Plus we'd call 911. And he likes girls! Remember Katie Smithson from fifth grade? And the Emilie Autumn wearing a bust-enhancing corset poster he has in his room?_

_But he could be __experimenting__ with homosexuality, _her paranoid side argued back. _A lot of people do. I mean, we had a brief crush on Olivia Jones from ninth grade, and we're straight!_

_Do we honestly think Tenou is going to experiment with another male? The boy's never even been on a date with a girl, poor honey. Stop this silliness, and turn our attention to how to quash his enthusiasm for playing the electric, _the sensible side urged, and she nodded firmly.

"I'll mention this to Arthur," she decided aloud. "He'll have some genius ideas how to make Tenou behave. After all, he's used to ordering people around and having them obey him! Or… or Reginald! Reginald would work too, and this is _not _an excuse to have him in my house again.

"…It's not, really!"

She thunked her head down again and mumbled, "Okay, it is, so scratch that idea. So… Arthur! He'll end this stupidity."

Unfortunately for her, Taishakuten thought Tenou The Rocker was incredibly amusing, and smirked, "Perhaps I should connect him with Mick Jagger. I know Mick, by the way. I'm sure he'd be more than willing to drop by and meet the boy."

The horrified Shashi took the lesser of two evils, and quickly replied, "Oh, that's not necessary, dear. He already has, um, three music mentors who know what they're doing."

It killed her to do this, but she somehow had the sense that he really would ring Mick Jagger up, and she'd open her door one day to see an aged icon who'd greet her with, "I'm 'ere to see your son, and lend 'im some of me old outfits." That could _not _be allowed to happen.

So she swallowed down her anger and decided that she'd find a way to get Tenou back to normal herself.

.

Three days later found Tenou over at the neighbors' again, playing the electric as Ryuu delivered a thundering accompaniment of drums. Seiryuu and Hakuryuu watched their protégé closely, having laid down "Tsunami" and "Fang", their respective guitars, to concentrate on his progress.

Tenou was, while not a _complete _beginner, still a novice on electric. He'd been getting rather good at acoustic, but electric demanded different technique. But he was picking it up fast, and the other three were very encouraging.

"That was pretty good," Seiryuu complimented when Tenou finished, "and you're getting faster. We'll have you doing Haku's face-melting solo from 'The Boss Dies Tonight' in no time!"

"The Boss Dies Tonight", by way of explanation, was all about Hakuryuu's dastardly clinic director, who wanted to forcibly cut his hair and hated him for no good reason. Since defying her at work was a surefire way to fail residency, he'd penned the piece of music that included the lyrics "Rise up and destroy the demon down the hall – Now that we're united, it's time for her to fall".

It was sung at the top of his lungs, with a screaming rockstar voice and heartfelt sentiment. Ryuu privately thought this was a bit disturbing, as usually Seiryuu was the one to go all-out on the vocals. Clearly, Dr. Renbatz cast a pall over Hakuryuu's clinic experience.

But hey, he often imagined enemies from school on the drum surfaces, so he could understand it. And much better for them to take out their aggression musically than beating up the jocks or strangling the clinic director with the stethoscope she always wore.

"Okay, take five," Hakuryuu said now, reaching for his water bottle. "I actually have an unrelated issue to bring up. Nathan and Sei, you already know what this is, but it's new to Tenou."

"What is it?" said teenager asked, a bit concerned. Perhaps Hakuryuu had skin cancer, in a terrible bit of irony? Maybe one of the cats was sick? Maybe Hakuryuu had decided to change his profession to dentist in order to escape Dr. Renbatz?

"Oh, it's nothing too bad," the beleaguered resident assured him. "It's just that we're rather concerned about your mother's attitude towards the three of us."

"When I brought over a package that had come to our house instead of yours," Seiryuu sighed, "she thought I'd stolen it for kicks at first, never mind that it was unopened. _I_ have no need for anything from Victoria's Secret," he snorted.

"So the time is nigh," Hakuryuu said seriously, "to begin 'Operation Good Neighbor', the ultimate goal of which is to have her like us. Now, Tenou, you said you're going to be moving when she gets married, so time is of the essence! Nathan, you've been over to play video games with him, and she yelled at you over CG fanservice, so you'll have to work extra hard."

Ryuu had made the mistake of bringing over "Final Fantasy X", in which the black mage of the party was a babe with a Pamela Anderson chest and a revealing, bondage-esque dress. And for that perfect touch of bad timing, he and Tenou had been staring as she leaned forwards into the camera after killing a monster… and that was when Shashi had come into the room.

After managing to stop her from breaking his precious disk, he'd quickly sought the sanctuary of his cousins' house, a bit pale. As he'd closed the door behind him, he'd heard her howling at her son for both letting the drummer into her house and viewing animated porn.

"I think this is a great idea," Tenou said warmly. "I'm sure she just needs to get to know you guys better, and then she'll see how cool you are. How can I help?" he offered with a smile.

Harmony on Royalty Drive? It could only be a good thing, and for only the fifth or so time in his life, he thought his mom was being stupid. Why would she hate such nice people? Especially when they wanted to be her friends, and had given her beloved son a new, joyous path in life.

"You can help," Ryuu grinned, "by mentioning how much wholesome fun you have over here. And our myriad good points. For example, I'm in the top two percentage in my school, Haku volunteers at the animal shelter, and Sei once saved some old lady's life when she started choking on a Chicken McNugget. We're awesome, dude."

"Haku and I'll make sure to invite her to all our parties," Seiryuu added. "She can meet our Grandpa! And Nathan's dad, who takes the prize for 'loving, perfect house husband'. Heck, he can make her some cupcakes!"

Ryuu's dad, indeed, wanted to be the next Martha Stewart. He was a phenomenal cook (Hakuryuu had learned from watching him), a brilliant interior decorator, and made the _cutest_ potpourri sachets. Ryuu's mom was the warrior breadwinner, but she was currently stationed in Afghanistan. Her husband held down the fort, and was gunning for his own cable TV show, which he would call "Mr. Mom's House".

"And we'll keep offering her frosty drinks and baked goods," Seiryuu went on. "Tenou, you should get her out in the yard, and _you _can accept them and encourage her to have some too. Food is a kickass icebreaker."

"She does like food," Tenou agreed seriously. "I'll make sure to say how good it is when I have some."

"Speaking of which, let's all have some brownies," Hakuryuu decided, turning towards the kitchen. "I made them yesterday. They're pecan-caramel-chocolate chip, and Nathan, I know you ate three when you went to use the bathroom."

Ryuu's mouth dropped open, and he asked, "How did you know the exact number? Geez Haku, you been studying mind-reading?"

"No," Hakuryuu smirked, "I just know you too well. You start off with one, intending to stop there, but then you decide that you're still hungry, so you take a second. Then you think that hmm, you've already had two, why not a third? After that you're not as hungry, and you guiltily replace the cover and make sure you don't have any crumbs on your face. I'm correct, aren't I?"

"Yeah," Ryuu admitted in a sheepish grumble. "So no more brownies for me, thanks."

But as the other three consumed their lovely desserts, Ryuu glanced at them with a covetous eye, and finally sighed, "Can I have another one? Please?"

"Yes," Seiryuu replied, just as Hakuryuu snapped, "No."

"Sei said 'yes'!" Ryuu grinned, snatching a treat as Hakuryuu glowered. "Thanks, nice cousin! See Tenou, you've gotta know how to play your family. I can also make my dad lend me his car, with a simple, 'Mom would have said I could'. It's all about knowing how to pull the levers."

"Or push the buttons," Hakuryuu muttered, emphatically closing the brownie cover.

.

That weekend found Tenou having more fun, this time with Bishamonten. They'd decided that, as they both liked coffee and there was a great coffee shop around, they should make a habit of patronizing it.

Tenou _liked _Bishamonten. He was a bit in awe of him too, but the older redhead was nicer than Taishakuten and had so many interesting things to say. They talked about anything from nuclear power to baseball to the trials and tribulations of high school, and it was a mutually educational experience.

Being a smart boy, Tenou had the distinct sense that there might still be something there in regards to Shashi. It had been a bit disconcerting actually, to know that this guy had at _least_ kissed his _mom_, but he was working through it. And he assured himself that it was probably just one of those "I can't help it, but it's there, but I'll never act on it" things; he had a hard time picturing Bishamonten stealing his boss's future wife.

Bishamonten liked Tenou in return. It was incredibly fortuitous that he'd found a younger person to unofficially mentor after the loss of Charlotte, which by now he had come to grips with. He still thought Agnes and Christian Hooker needed to be attacked by Blackhawks, but it no longer consumed him. After all, he now had a surrogate child figure who could hold intelligent conversations with him, not coos and gurgles.

"Hey Reginald," Tenou suggested as they sipped coffee on the patio, "we should go bowling!"

"Bowling? Why bowling?" Bishamonten asked, a bit surprised.

"I like bowling," Tenou explained. "And you like sports, and it would be hard to play baseball with just the two of us. I mean, maybe if I got some friends and you got some friends too, but you can go bowling with a small group and not have to worry about scheduling everyone in."

"Tenou," Bishamonten smiled, "I'd love to go bowling with you. I'll see if Aaron can come as well."

"That'd be great!" Tenou chirped. "I should warn you that I'm not very good at it, but I have a lot of fun. I'm sure you'll both beat me, but that's okay. I mostly just wanted to spend time with you."

Bishamonten now felt like hugging him and bawling, "Young man, you make Kisshouten's absence bearable, and your mother gave birth to a saint. Your father must have been one of those men who help humanity, yes?"

Instead, he politely replied, "That's very kind of you. I enjoy spending time with you as well. How about next weekend?"

When he invited Zouchouten along, the big guy beamed and agreed, "Great. I'll be there! I'm so glad you two are getting along so well. By the way, Reginald, have you heard from Kisshouten when she's coming back?"

"It's still slated to be in December," Bishamonten sighed. "She's very busy, and seems to be having a _wonderful _time." The word "wonderful" was given an inflection that made it sound like a curse word, and Zouchouten had to sigh in exasperation.

Bishamonten too was rather exasperated. She did call him, but not always twice a day, and while she made it clear she missed him too, she was having a… _rewarding experience_ away from him! She should be suffering like he was! She shouldn't be able to grow as a person without her husband, who felt he was stagnating without her.

Oh well. Perhaps bowling would shake things up. Tenou was good with agitating the waters of Bishamonten's life, in a positive way, and the head of Expansion really looked forwards to those coffee dates, even though seeing Shashi sometimes was hard.

But he stuck to his "let her go" guns. And despite his subconscious wanting her to pull him into a locked room and confess that she was leaving Taishakuten for him, the rest of him had accepted the whole engagement angle. He'd be fine, he assured himself, and by the time the wedding rolled around he'd be perfectly all right with being the best man, or whatever Taishakuten chose. He'd get them a lovely gift, and by then Kisshouten would be back, and they could all go ahead with their lives.

As he walked back to his office, Yasha fell into step with him and murmured, "Sir, I have some bad news."

"And what is it?" Bishamonten nearly demanded, his pleasant mood flying out the window. "Is it about Victor, or the Wardsworth account, or the Diablos account, or something unrelated to work at all?"

"It's about Mr. Vahyu, sir," Yasha answered, saying "Vahyu" in a rather disgusted tone. "He came over to personally invite you to his birthday pool party. And while he was there, he invited Victor and me as well. And then, um… well, Victor clobbered him with a rubber band ball, so I guess in a way this _is _about him."

Bishamonten asked, "How, exactly, did he 'clobber' him? Do you mean he bounced it off his chest, or hit him in the nose, or –?"

"He hit him in the, er, groin," Yasha replied, smiling evilly without realizing he was doing so. "And it was a _big _rubber band ball, too. He immediately protested that he didn't mean to throw it that hard when Mr. Vahyu threatened to sue… in a high-pitched voice. So I think you might be getting a call from Mr. Koumokuten."

Instead of commiserating with a man who'd been hurt in a very painful way, Bishamonten was _proud _of Kujaku. Finally, those odd pastimes had been put to good use against a scourge of the office! He made a mental note to give his secretary a small "Good job!" bonus, and to defend him against Koumokuten.

When he walked into the office, the phone was ringing. He watched Kujaku carefully as he answered it, fully prepared to lecture and take away that bonus if there was a silly accent.

" 'Ey, dis is – I mean hello, this is the office of Reginald Bishamonten, Senior Vice President of Expansion," Kujaku amended quickly, grinning as innocently as he could. "My name is Victor, and how can I help you today?"

YES! Threats had worked! One flaw down, Bishamonten congratulated himself as he went into his office.

.

And so the next weekend, Bishamonten found himself walking into "Bowling-O-Rama", wearing a snazzy polo shirt and an anticipatory smile. Ah, this would be fun!

"Over here, Reginald!" he heard the minute he cleared the cash register, and he looked over to find Zouchouten and Tenou waving at him, both wearing t-shirts. Tenou's said "Metallica", Zouchouten's said "(Heart) Coffee". Appropriate, on both counts.

Bishamonten, unlike Shashi, was impressed by Tenou's passion for rock music. Being a person who couldn't even play "Chopsticks" on the piano, anyone who could play an instrument was a source of envy (except if they were a big, scary man who played the flute, in which case they were a source of derision). And in fact, Tenou had lent him one of his new "Nine Inch Nails" CDs, which Bishamonten had been astounded to discover was incredibly good.

But anyway, he strolled on over and asked, "Have you picked out your balls yet?"

"No, we were waiting for you," Tenou explained. "Aaron was just telling me about his new dog."

"How nice," Bishamonten said, uninterested in the new dog. "Well, gentlemen, shall we choose our weapons? It doesn't seem to be too crowded," he observed as they walked over to the ball racks, and indeed, for a Saturday afternoon this place was pretty empty.

"Nope," Zouchouten agreed, scanning his choices. "Everybody else is probably outside."

Tenou picked up a blue fourteen-pound ball. Bishamonten picked up a red fifteen-pound ball. Zouchouten, after much searching, picked up a black sixteen-pound ball, and hefted it like it was cotton candy.

But no matter, Bishamonten assured himself. Brute strength hardly ever won out over refined technique, and he'd been a good bowler years ago. And as Zouchouten had mentioned before that he hadn't bowled since 2008, it would be child's play to defeat him. Heck, maybe even Tenou would defeat him, and he and Bishamonten could high-five while Zouchouten sulked.

"So… who goes first?" Tenou asked when they reached an empty lane. "Is there some sort of fancy rule to determine that?"

"Probably," Zouchouten shrugged before Bishamonten could answer, "but let's just go youngest to oldest: you, Reginald, me. I don't mind being last."

"Okay. Thanks. Is that okay with you, Reginald?"

"Perfectly fine," Bishamonten answered, sitting down at the scoring chair. "Go ahead, Tenou."

Tenou stepped up to the line, rolled a four, rolled a three, and grinned. Yay, he hadn't sent his ball into the gutter! This was a good sign! Maybe he wouldn't lose _as _horribly as the last three times.

When it was his turn, Bishamonten made sure to look extra graceful. He would win, he was sure, and now it was time to concentrate on his form. The fact that he got a seven and a four was a good start, he congratulated himself, and as he got back into the groove soon he'd be getting spares and strikes.

Zouchouten now studied the pins with a critical eye. So judging by the laws of physics, a direct hit to the middle pin, with sufficient force, would net him a strike, which would then mean he got to go again, according to the laws of bowling. If he could just aim well enough and put some muscle into it, he might just pull a strike off.

_Thud!_

_Rollrollrollroll…_

_CLATTER!_

Zouchouten's ball hit the pins so hard, four of them flew into different lanes as Tenou breathed, "Wow!" and Bishamonten felt extremely inadequate. Zouchouten himself grinned as the scoreboard showed a strike, and the foursome next to them broke into applause.

Sure they had to get a disgruntled employee out to gather the other pins, but hey, this was good, Zouchouten thought proudly as he apologized and promised to tone it down next time. Great, this wasn't going to be a repeat of second grade gym class, when he'd only managed to hit _five_ pins, throughout the entire game.

As Zouchouten killed it on the lane and Tenou cheerfully took down some pins here and there, Bishamonten desperately tried to get his lead back, to no avail. His mammoth friend was on it, and his own efforts couldn't match up. He left poor but happy Tenou in the dust, but Zouchouten was way, way ahead.

Oh, he didn't get _all _strikes; he also got spares and a couple splits. But no gutter balls, and he always knocked down at least eight pins, dammit. And he was having fun with it, the jerk, and that foursome on the left stopped playing to watch him each time he rolled.

Bishamonten now regretted inviting Zouchouten, and vowed that next time, it would just be him and Tenou, be it a coffee date or another bowling trip. He hated being second-best! How terrible that his work power didn't automatically translate to leisure time power, like Taishakuten's did.

And even if Taishakuten was bad at something, everybody made sure to be worse in comparison. For example, golf. He thought he was phenomenal at it, but was in reality merely semi-good. His opponents always made sure to be worse, and he never knew, Bishamonten thought proudly, that his Generals of the Boardroom could have wiped the floor with him had they been trying.

If he ever found that out, Bishamonten pondered as Zouchouten got another strike, something drastic would happen. Well, he never would! He'd go to his grave decades later convinced he was a golf god, and thus Bishamonten had fulfilled his duty as "Chief Ego-Stroker". Or "Chief Ass-Kisser", as Koumokuten had once muttered to his wife, but the VP of Expansion preferred the more refined term, thank you.

When the humiliation of losing to a man not as powerful at work as he was ended, Bishamonten unclenched his jaw and used his "gracious loser" act. "That was amazing, Aaron," he smiled, shaking Zouchouten's hand. "My, that was fun. Tenou, did you have fun too?" he asked needlessly, as Tenou was positively beaming.

"I sure did! Wow, Aaron, that was so cool," Tenou complimented, high-fiving Zouchouten just to unconsciously rub it in. "And thanks to both of you for the tips, they really helped."

"You're welcome," Bishamonten smiled, meaning this sentence. It was _good _to be the wise teacher and help the novice, so that at least that took the edge off the sting of loss. He decided, as he drove home and finished calling Zouchouten nasty names in his head, that maybe, just maybe, that had made it a ton of fun.

.

.

(AN: Just so you all know, "Kelly" is Nameless Omake Cutesy Wife. See, I can deal with canon I hate! Really.

Yes their ages are adjusted here, but I really didn't feel like writing grieving widower Zouchouten after she died recently. Why didn't I write her alive? Oh, let's think about that, shall we? It couldn't be because Karura/Zouchouten is like my OTP? Why just possibly yes.

I hear you saying, "Lady, she's ignoring him here! Give it a rest." To which I say… upcoming chapters might change your mind on that one.

Oh, and Ayumi Hamasaki, for those of you who don't already know this, is a Japanese pop superstar. I've actually never heard any of her music, I've just heard that she's big over there and has been for many years. Perhaps someday I'll listen to a clip and see if I find her any good.

Don't own "What Is Love" by Haddaway [awesome song], or "Friday" by Rebecca Black [terrible song]. Lyrics were borrowed without permission.

The next chapter will involve one Mr. Harold Kumaraten, who is an antisocial engineer, and have Bishamonten tattling on Zouchouten. For what? Bwa-ha-ha, I'm not telling.)


	11. Locked Doors

_In which Zouchouten spends an inordinate amount of time in Kumaraten's office_

.

.

Two weeks after bowling, a blight descended upon the skyscraper of Tenkai Corporation: Shashi came to visit, and she brought her favorite golf club and a canister of balls.

Yes, she had remembered Taishakuten's promise that if she agreed to marry him, she could swing golf clubs in Koumokuten and Zouchouten's offices. And seeing as Tenou hadn't shut up about how cool Zouchouten had been at "Bowling-O-Rama" for a full week, she'd decided that today, he'd be the one who'd deal with her. AH-ha-ha-ha-ha!

Was this bitchy? Well of course it was. Was it mean-spirited too? Hell to the yes. Was she going to have fun with this demonstration of her power? That too was an answer in the affirmative.

The downstairs security gave her weird looks but let her through, and she stepped into the elevator with an evil grin. First, she'd drop in on her fiancé, and then she'd drop in on Zouchouten, and possibly Koumokuten too if she felt like it. She would avoid Bishamonten, because seeing the man in his element was sure to bring on those vow-interfering feelings she was tying so hard to ignore.

When she stepped out of the elevator on Taishakuten's floor, she held her head high as she walked towards his office, carrying her weapons. He'd be amused at this, she was sure.

And he was. His face adopted a look of near-sadistic glee, and he asked, "My, Shashi, here to practice your swing? Perhaps in the offices of some of my underlings who dislike you? My dear, what a catty yet brilliant idea."

"Well, you're the one who suggested it, Arthur," she tittered after giving him a kiss. "Remember? At Antonio's? I figured I may as well try it, and show them who's the boss's beloved around here. You won't let them make a fuss about it, will you darling?" she asked, fluttering her lashes for that perfect touch.

"No I won't," he assured her. "I will remind them that _they_ are merely my minions, and _you_ will soon be my queen. They'll back down."

And so, after a nice little chat and another kiss, Shashi headed down a floor with malicious intent. She asked a peon in the hall which office was Zouchouten's, and walked with purpose over to it.

And no one was there! Phooey. Zouchouten was down talking to one of his engineers, Karura accompanying him as always, unaware that he'd left his door open. It would cost him.

Shashi briefly considered rifling through his drawers and otherwise snooping around, but she was uninterested in his work life. Unless he hid ladies' underwear in one of the desk drawers, she was unlikely to find anything to use against him. And seeing as he, in fact, did _not _hide panties in his desk, she would have come up empty-handed.

But she looked at the desk to see if there were any pictures of ugly family members she could use as ammo. No, just a photograph of a golden Lab mix with pointed ears and a dog grin, not even photos of his mom and dad. Or his deceased wife, because he preferred memories (although he did have photo albums and framed pictures of her at home).

Suddenly a suspicious voice came from behind her, making her jump: "Who are you, and why are you in Aaron's office?"

She knew that voice, she knew it even as she turned her head. And yes, Bishamonten was standing in the doorway, his hands on his hips and a disapproving frown on his face, his also-frowning assistant behind him.

He blinked and sighed, "Oh. Shashi, why are you in here? Carrying golfing equipment?"

Oh Gawd, he _did _look even better as the conquering businessman. His entire bearing radiated power, and she was a sucker for power. And of course his tailored suit fit perfectly, and his assistant clearly respected and feared him too. The assistant was also handsome, but he couldn't compare, in her mind.

But she recovered quickly, being a phenomenal actress, and replied, "Why, Arthur said to treat this skyscraper as my own, Reginald. And he tells me you make a habit of doing this too."

Yes indeed, Bishamonten had been about to fulfill his "corporate spymaster" duties, and poke around in Zouchouten's desk while the head of R and D was occupied with a meeting. Yasha had come along to run interference, and tell him if anyone was coming. Personally Yasha thought this was a terrible thing to do, but oh well, it was part of his job description.

Bishamonten too recovered quickly and snapped, "That's irrelevant. May I ask _why _you're carrying a club and some balls? Don't tell me," he groaned, "you're going to practice your putting _here_."

"Nice and flat," she smirked, stroking her thumb along the club's grip. "People do it all the time. It's the stereotypical boss pastime while the employees slave away, according to Hollywood. And Arthur _said _I could," she informed him a bit petulantly.

She'd said the magic words. Bishamonten's face eased, and he actually smiled as he said, "Well, that's all right then. Far be it from me to disagree with our beloved CEO. Isn't that right, James?" he smirked, and Yasha had no choice but to agree, "Yes sir. Beloved, Mr. Bishamonten sir."

"Well, we'll just pop in on Aaron later," Bishamonten decided, and turned to go. Then he turned back and farewelled, "Nice to see you, Shashi. Have a pleasant day."

"You too, Reginald," she said cheerfully. "Bye now."

The minute Bishamonten's shadow had disappeared, she located a Styrofoam cup at the water cooler, set it right in front of Zouchouten's desk, set up her ball a few feet away from it… and paused.

Putting? Putting wasn't really _swinging _a golf club, now was it? Well, she'd loosen up with maybe five perfect putts, and then she'd move into the hallway and pretend she was at the driving range. If all went well, it'd cause some damage. Oh, wasn't it nice to be the evil queen? Er, evil future queen?

A number of floors down, Zouchouten and Karura had just left the engineer's office, and Zouchouten was grumpy. He was trying to quit coffee again, for what must have been the thirtieth time this year, and he was damned irritable and fully in withdrawal. He was tired, his head hurt, he just felt _off_, and everything annoyed him.

Even _Karura _annoyed him sometimes, it was that bad. He wanted to back her against a wall and howl, "Stop ignoring me, you beautiful idiot! Can't you see I want you so desperately it's pathetic?"

But he didn't. He just drank more water and a contraband soda here and there, and clung to the lifeline of "When withdrawal ends, I'll feel better than before, and I won't want to rip Xavier's lips off when I hear him say, 'Hi fire goddess! How's my little Amazon bunny?' I'll get through this. I _will_."

"Sir," Karura said, making him turn his head to look at her, "sir, I have to say that I'm so impressed with the way you're handling this caffeine withdrawal. It's been a whole week, Aaron! Last time you only made it until four in the afternoon. This is an encouraging sign, and I'm so proud of you."

"I'm so proud of _you_, Ellen," he replied fervently as they stepped into the elevator. "James might be called the 'Best Executive Assistant', but I think _you _are."

_Ellen, when the elevator doors close, I want you to suddenly realize what you mean to me, _he thought as she pressed the button for their floor. _I want you to look into my eyes and toss that palm pilot to the ground, because –_

"Hold up! Let me in too!" a commanding voice called, shattering this little fantasy. Zouchouten glared at Vahyu, who sashayed into the elevator with a snooty, "Floor Forty-Three, please."

The man was so conceited, Karura thought with a sigh, that he didn't even press his own buttons if he could help it. She wondered what would happen if she pressed Floor Fifty, which was Taishakuten's domain, and Floor Forty-Nine, the Senior VP floor. Ha, he'd gape as the elevator skipped his stop, and have to wait until they got out to fix her "mistake".

Alas, Zouchouten punched the button for Forty-Three, pretending he was poking Vahyu in the eye. And for the next nineteen floors, he had to listen to the babble of "Have I told you that Xavie says my idea for the new radio ad campaign is sheer genius? Of course, what else can he expect from me!"

Finally Vahyu left, but the spell had been broken, if it had ever been there at all. Zouchouten and his object of affection stood in silence for half a minute until the doors opened on the forty-ninth floor, and when they got out, he soothed his annoyance by thinking that the rest of the day, at least, would be easy.

Thus, when he turned a corner and saw Shashi winding up down the hallway, he couldn't stop a shout of "HEY!"

She turned with an innocent expression on her face, cheering in her head at this luck. Great, he'd have to watch her lodge a golf ball in his wall!

"What are you _doing?_" Zouchouten demanded, storming down the hall. "And why are you even here? Are you –? No, don't you dare. Don't you _dare_ hit that golf ball, Dr. Prince, or so help me I'll –"

Too late.

_Whack!_

Zouchouten sucked in a furious breath as the ball bounced off his college diploma, caromed off his desk and knocked over his water bottle, and hit the left wall so hard it dented it. Shashi grinned wickedly, proud of her form, and tittered, "Whoopsie, I didn't realize your door was open!"

Before Karura could intervene, the Senior Vice President of Research and Development lost it. "The _nerve _of you, playing your juvenile little power games in this office! Dr. Prince, there was no need for you to do that!" he snarled, glowering like a hangman and clenching his fists.

"I know we're not friends," he went on in a bellow, "but I have always been nothing but polite to you! I demand an apology!"

Most people might have been very scared by being yelled at by a large angry man who hadn't had his coffee, and was dealing with a headache, and had had the nickname of "Bonecrusher" back in college. But Shashi was Shashi, and she simply arched an uncaring brow.

"I don't know what your problem is," Zouchouten growled, his eyes flashing. "I don't know what makes you think you can abuse me like this. I don't know why you've hated me since we met, but let me tell you, the feeling's now mutual! You arrogant, spoiled, bitch of a harpy, if you don't apologize for this I'll tell your son just how much I despise you!"

"Aaron, no!" Karura interrupted, grabbing his arm before he could punch and thus severely injure the big boss's fiancée. "Don't make trouble for yourself!"

He calmed down, staring at her hand on his arm. Oh holy God, actual physical contact! On her own initiative! Think of the many possibilities that could grow out of this gesture…

Shashi read his thoughts on his face clear as day, and sneered a bit as she thought, _Dream on, idiot. You're old enough to be this hottie's dad, and she's way too pretty to be with someone like you. Then again, poor Aguni's married to the creepiest man I've ever seen, but I still think this one's out of your league, big guy._

Alas for poor Zouchouten, Karura removed her hand from his arm and tried, "Dr. Prince, please, try not to do things like that anymore, okay? Aaron has enough to deal with on a daily basis, and he's trying to quit coffee so he's somewhat irritable right now."

"And who might you be?" Shashi asked, smirking in a very grating manner. "I'm assuming you're his assistant. Honey, tell your boss he's overreacting, and that there'll be payback for the 'bitch of a harpy' line."

"My name's Ellen," Karura replied, a dangerous tone to her voice. "And yes, I'm his assistant. I personally agree that your action was unnecessary, and probably calculated to provoke him. Ma'am, this isn't the place to demonstrate your power like that, and it would be polite to apologize for what you did."

Shashi was impressed, despite herself. Here was a woman who clearly had confidence, and a backbone without being aggressive. She thought Karura had bad taste in loyalties, but oh well, not everyone had the brains to pick Taishakuten over a glandular freak with dumb facial hair.

She also had the sense that if provoked further, Zouchouten just might go berserk, and Taishakuten firing him would be of small consolation when she woke up in a hospital bed. That was the problem with men: push them far enough and testosterone took over. Push a woman far enough and usually she started screaming at you, although there were certainly some who'd beat you up too.

So she stuck her club under her arm, picked up the canister of golf balls, and sniffed, "Well then, I'm sorry you're offended. But be aware that Arthur suggested I do this, and if you ever insult me like that again, there will be very serious consequences. I'll still allow Tenou to interact with you, but the next time we meet you'd better be on your best behavior, Aaron Zouchouten."

"Quite," he grumbled. "Have a simply _lovely _day, Dr. Prince," he said with a sarcastic bite as she passed him.

She turned back to watch him and his assistant, just to see if she could catch him whispering an insult to her. But no, he just slumped a bit and she reached a hand out to touch his shoulder, then flushed and pulled it back before she could make contact. He didn't notice, too busy glaring at the golf ball sitting in the middle of his office.

As Shashi walked off, she heard him sigh, "Ellen, please make me a quintuple espresso. I'll quit caffeine some other day."

.

Three days later, Bishamonten was in a good mood. Life was… good. He was coping well without Kisshouten, he was looking forwards to the next coffee date with Tenou, and he no longer had to wonder where his secretary was going to pretend he was from today.

Unfortunately, he wasn't out of the woods yet in regards to Kujaku being completely professional. There were still those goddamned paperclip sculptures, and the jokes, and the occasional bursting into song. And the cheekiness, which sometimes made him want to yell, "Have you no respect for the second-most powerful man in this company? What do you think I am, someone here for your entertainment?"

Today, Kujaku had sung "Everybody's Workin' For The Weekend", and suggested that Yasha "turn that frown upside down! Watch, I'll juggle this empty coffee thermos, my phone, and this paperweight! You'll smile then for sure, Grouchy McGrouchington!"

Grouchy McGrouchington had snatched the paperweight up before his friend could grab it, and snarled, "No. Mr. Bishamonten, please tell him to behave!"

"Behave, Victor," Bishamonten had snapped, pointing a finger at him like a disapproving teacher faced with a misbehaving elementary-schooler. "This is not a talent show, this is a place of business! You are not the class clown, you are my secretary! And I am going to take away your sketchbook if you don't stop juggling that thermos and that phone!"

Kujaku had sighed but obeyed, shooting Yasha an offended look.

And now, as Bishamonten came back from lunch, he heard a page that made him groan: "Billy-Bob Dinkleberry? Please report to Ms. Tallywhite's office for an important meeting. Billy-Bob Dinkleberry, Ms. Tallywhite's office. Thank you."

This was said in a completely professional tone, no hint of laughter. And Bishamonten could just picture the joker: Kujaku would be sitting straight in his chair, a serene expression on his face, one hand tapping a pen against the desk and the other holding the page button. Then he'd let it go and collapse into giggles, pumping his fists in the air and spinning around in his spin-y chair.

Bishamonten hated that chair. It had started out as your average office furniture, but Kujaku had stuck stickers on the legs, which couldn't be seen when he was at the desk so Bishamonten couldn't insist he take them off. And on the back, it had a sign that said, "Property of Victor Kujaku, Secretary GOD. No touchie!"

So when Bishamonten reached his office, he lectured Kujaku for five minutes, then started to prepare for his upcoming meeting with Zouchouten's pet engineer, the man who'd invented half of Tenkai Corporation's best products. Harold Kumaraten probably held more patents than some small companies, and he never seemed to run out of ideas.

He too had an unusual hairstyle, as seemed to be the norm in this company. Taishakuten's flowing locks, Zouchouten's sideburns, Yasha's really long tresses, Karura's bob-with-ponytail, Kuyou and Hanranya's twists and low ponytails, Varuna's ridiculous forelock, and of course Bishamonten's completely odd hairstyle… Kumaraten's high gathered ponytail fit right in.

He was a rather odd man. His office was tucked back into a corner where few people ventured, and that was how he liked it. He really was a solitary being, although Bishamonten recalled that he was married, to Shashi's sister no less. Introverted and rather arrogant, he was brilliant at design and won numerous awards, even though he hated having to give acceptance speeches.

He seemed nervous when he entered the room fifteen minutes earlier than Bishamonten had expected as well. He fiddled with his somber tie, bit his lip, and finally said, "Mr. Bishamonten, I'm sorry, but I have to cancel our meeting."

Bishamonten put down his pen emphatically as Kujaku eavesdropped shamelessly, and Yasha frowned at such short notice. That was a very unprofessional action, and if the man could come all the way up here, why couldn't he hold the meeting?

"And why is that, Harold?" Bishamonten sighed. "Aaron assured me your latest idea would make us millions if not billions."

Kumaraten gulped slightly, and hastily replied, "Well it will sir, but I… I don't have my briefcase."

Bishamonten glared, because not having one's briefcase was an offense he thought should be punishable by death. "And why is that?" he asked, or rather, demanded.

Now Kumaraten looked simply wretched. "Because it's in my office…" he rallied and said firmly, "and I am _not _goingback in there." He said it like his office was a house of horrors that would swallow him alive.

"Did you lock yourself out?" Bishamonten asked, confused.

"Did you set your computer on fire by accident?" Kujaku butted in. "You should always let it rest after using it for –"

"No!" Kumaraten snapped at Kujaku, who suddenly realized he had a phone to answer. As Kujaku sang, "Hello, you have reached the office of Reginald Bishamonten!" into the phone, his boss asked Kumaraten point-blank, "Why can't you go back in?"

"Because," Kumaraten took a deep breath, "Mr. Zouchouten's in there."

Bishamonten just sighed again and muttered, "Oh, is he in one of his caffeine withdrawal rages again?" He stood up and thrust his open hand out before Kumaraten could reply, and ordered, "Give me the key and I'll go talk to him."

Kumaraten stubbornly refused with a fervent, "Sir, I think that would be a very bad idea. He'll probably be quite upset if you show up."

"Harold," Bishamonten said coaxingly, "how long was it since you tried to go in?" Surely by now Zouchouten had worked through whatever had set him off. Seriously, yelling with a headache from no caffeine was a stupid thing to do. What a fool.

"It's been over an hour," Kumaraten allowed, then hastily added, "but sir, I really do think it would be wiser to just hold the meeting tomorrow."

Bishamonten made a "Give it here" motion with his hand, and Kumaraten sighed dismally and passed him the key as he pleaded, "But sir, please tell him when he yells at you that I tried to keep you away. I want to make it very clear that it's not my fault when he gets mad."

"I will," Bishamonten assured the engineer. "And he will back down, as I am his boss after all." With that he swept from the room, as Yasha glared at Kujaku's impression of an insufferably cheerful person on the phone.

Bishamonten took the elevator down to Kumaraten's floor, walked briskly down the hallway, and opened the door to the darkened main workspace. No one there, but that was to be expected. Kumaraten was one of those non-team players who insisted that they worked better alone.

Bishamonten flipped the lights on just as Karura and Zouchouten walked out of Kumaraten's office, beaming.

He _might _have been able to overlook their expressions of romantic satiation, and the smear of lipstick near Zouchouten's mouth, but the way they were suddenly clinging to each other and staring like deer in headlights couldn't be overlooked. It was undoubtedly an instinctual action: "Oh no, a threat! Quick, if we huddle together we'll be safe!"

The redhead studied them. Clearly this was out of line, because manager/underling affairs were forbidden. Zouchouten might have been a Senior Vice President, but Karura would probably have to be transferred, because if you let one couple get away with flouting the system soon the entire company would be having sex in the mailroom.

But Bishamonten had the distinct sense, judging by the way they weren't spouting asinine excuses, that they'd thought of this. Maybe they'd happily anticipate a transfer so they could move in together, or something along those lines.

He studied them some more, resisted the urge to hum "Tale As Old As Time", and smiled ever so slightly as he said, "Congratulations. I do expect the new design proposal by tomorrow though." And with that he walked back out, and hummed "When You Love A Woman" instead.

"Harold," he sighed as he reentered his office, "why didn't you _tell _me she was with him in there? It would have saved me a trip."

Kujaku looked proud of something. Yasha looked confused. Kumaraten looked relieved, to the nth degree. Clearly, he'd been aware of what had happened.

"Well sir," he answered matter-of-factly, "I didn't want to get my boss in trouble."

Kujaku and Yasha's expressions intensified. Bishamonten just barked, "Go back to work, all of you."

All three underlings obeyed, and the head of Expansion immediately pulled out his phone and called up Koumokuten. It was time for another "snicker behind Zouchouten's back" talk. It had long ago occurred to Bishamonten that as he and Zouchouten whispered behind Koumokuten's back as well, Koumokuten and Zouchouten no doubt did the same to him. But that was all right, because now he had _blackmail potential._

Koumokuten answered on the first ring with, "Yeah? This is Xavier."

"Xavier?" Bishamonten grinned evilly and suggested, "Let's have a late, second lunch. I have most interesting news indeed."

.

But before dishing the dirt with Koumokuten, Bishamonten tattled to Taishakuten like a good little minion.

"Sir, Aaron's sleeping with his assistant," he proclaimed, after locking the door. "I _saw_ it."

Taishakuten gave him a bored look and replied, "Finally. It only took four years for that man to get his act together." Then, with a slightly more interested expression on his face, he queried, "Did you, in fact, witness intercourse?"

Bishamonten admitted, "No sir, but I have good reason to believe some occurred. Apparently they locked Harold Kumaraten's office and were in there for two hours."

"Did they now," Taishakuten purred, now sounding intrigued. "My God, Harold must be beside himself. He's somewhat germ-phobic, you know. Well Reginald, thank you for informing me of this."

"You're, er, not going to publicly humiliate Aaron, are you sir?" Bishamonten asked rather nervously, feeling somewhat guilty for informing on his friend. "Surely a mere private reprimand should ensure that it never happens again," he suggested hopefully.

"I'm not going to reprimand them," Taishakuten replied, then dropped a bombshell: "I'm going to go _congratulate _them."

Bishamonten was pleasantly surprised at this, but then became suspicious that it was a test of some sort.

"Sir," he tried, "may I ask why you're going to go do that? And not, um, strip them of their positions?"

"Because Reginald," Taishakuten said, like he was talking to a very stupid little boy, "Aaron is an asset. And I had had just about enough of his angsting after his assistant, and had been about to take Ms. Karura aside and tell her that she really should pay more attention to his actions. After all, happy employees are much more productive than those who pine for each other."

"Each other, sir?" Bishamonten asked a bit faintly. "Ellen ignored his romantic overtures."

"Ellen," Taishakuten said simply, "is the type of person who, while very intelligent everywhere else, misses important facts of the heart. I know a couple other people like that, Reginald. And did you never notice the way her eyes would follow him?"

Now that Bishamonten thought about it, yes, Karura _had _made a habit of staring at her boss when he wasn't looking. Still, he was willing to bet that Zouchouten had had to tell her point-blank, "I'm in love with you, let's get it on."

"So, er… you'll of course tell them they can't work together anymore, right?" he tried as he fiddled with his tie. After all, what kind of example would that set for the rank and file if they did?

"Hmmm…" Taishakuten thought for a minute, and then decided, "I shall give them a choice. They can either act platonic on the clock and stay as boss and assistant, or I will transfer Ellen so she and Aaron can be lovers everywhere. They can eat lunch together, and such. Now if they were a mere manager and secretary I would rend them apart, but he's my General of R and D so he'll get a reward, but only if he agrees to act like he's not with her while in this building. It's a double standard, but I'm the CEO and I can do what I want," he concluded in a proud tone.

Bishamonten then decided that this wasn't as much as a surprise as it might seem at first glance. After all, Shashi got to swing golf clubs, Koumokuten got to constantly call his wife, Vahyu got to sleep with any underling he wanted to, and Kujaku got to be a moron, all during office hours.

So maybe Taishakuten was a bit more lenient than people thought… but only if the recipients of such generosity proved their mettle.

"I will grant Aaron's wish to keep Ellen as his assistant, and spare her the ax of a dressing down and a forced transfer," Taishakuten continued, bolstering Bishamonten's conclusion. It was further reinforced when the CEO smirked, "He's been so good lately, and I know he'll want her to stay. They work well together."

"Fabulous," Bishamonten smiled, wondering what _he _could get away with if he'd wanted to. "Do you want me there when you go talk to them?"

"Oh no," Taishakuten answered, "your presence is not required. You may continue with your day, and you have my permission to announce this over the loudspeakers, should you wish."

"I think not," Bishamonten replied, smirking a bit. "But I did call Xavier and tell him to meet me in the cafeteria soon. He'll be very interested in hearing about this new development, and I'm willing to bet that he'll immediately call Aguni and tell her all of it too."

"I like that woman," Taishakuten said happily. "She's driven and a forceful personality. I do wish she was a businessperson instead of a gym teacher, because we could use her to attack any rival companies and she'd do it grinning." Yes, scary people stuck together, it seemed.

Bishamonten smiled some more, nodded, excused himself, and walked quickly to the cafeteria. Koumokuten was already there, haranguing a food worker and demanding more cayenne pepper on his fish.

"I don't care if you're running out! I want something spicy, peon. …More than that, don't skimp on it! Sheesh, you must think I'll burst into tears at mere cayenne. You ever heard of a habanero, lady? I eat those things like popcorn," he snorted as Bishamonten came up behind him.

"Xavier, stop whining," Bishamonten ordered, then demanded fish too. Alas, there was no cayenne pepper left by that point, something that annoyed him very much. But oh well.

"What's your news, Reginald?" Koumokuten asked as they sat down. "Did James beat Victor's head against the wall, finally having had enough of the accents and the paper clips? Or did Nina suddenly decide to quit?"

"None of those," Bishamonten told him. "No, something much, much better. You see…"

He paused for effect, and said proudly, "Aaron and Ellen just had sex in Harold Kumaraten's office, and guess who saw them walk out of there."

Koumokuten stared, then started to grin as he asked, "Oh yeah? How could you tell?"

"Because," Bishamonten answered haughtily, "they'd been in there for two hours, and I don't care how much control you have, you don't spend two hours alone with your object of affection and merely suck face. And Ellen was flushed, and she's usually so pale. Not to mention that the way they reacted to seeing me was a dead giveaway."

"Let me guess," Koumokuten said gleefully, "he said something like, 'Oh hi Reginald, we were just so interested in Harold's new design that we lost track of time.' With her lipstick on his face and his tie askew and her jacket misbuttoned, right?"

"They didn't say anything," Bishamonten smirked, "and while their clothes were normal her hair was hastily put up and he did indeed have her lipstick on his face. No, they grabbed each other and stared at me like I was a policeman and they were fugitives."

"Fugitives of love," Koumokuten crowed, clapping his hands together once and throwing his head back to laugh. "Oh man, Reginald, do you know what this means?"

"It means we can rib him mercilessly," Bishamonten purred, sounding just as evil as Taishakuten. "He'll never hear the end of it, and while Taishakuten says he'll let them still work together… Xavier, think of the jokes we can make!"

"Yeah, like 'I guess Ellen's duties now include putting out, huh?' " Koumokuten thought aloud. "Or 'Aaron, you should give her a raise… because she sure gave you a rise,' ah-ha-ha!"

"Or perhaps," Bishamonten jumped in, "something like 'She should wean you off the coffee by distracting you with sex. After all, you got both in the workplace!' Or maybe 'Aaron, Donald Trump called. He wants you to join his club for older executives with unusual hair who sleep with gorgeous women young enough to be their daughters'."

"Reginald," Koumokuten chortled, "this is a goldmine. I mean, the next time he whines about me calling my wife, I can just point out, 'But I never banged her in somebody else's office, unlike _some _people, and she was just Tamara's gym teacher, not my assistant.' I'm telling you, we can use this for _anything_."

Bishamonten almost said, "Now I don't feel so bad about that one fantasy I had where Shashi locked my door and told Victor not to disturb us, before we used my desk as a bed." But he managed to catch himself and merely agree, "Oh yes. We have a license to tease now."

"And we can needle her too," Koumokuten went on. "We can insinuate and make innuendoes and suggest, 'Aaron likes coffee so much, why don't you pour some over your naked body and have him lick it off?' Or –"

"That might be construed as sexual harassment," Bishamonten pointed out as the voice of reason. "Because she's a woman and we're men. But we can say things like that to Aaron, as he's a man too," he grinned, conveniently forgetting that such things probably would have still earned them a lawsuit if Zouchouten wasn't their friend.

"Or!" Koumokuten said loudly, holding up a single index finger. "Or, we can have _Nina_ say that to her! Because it's not sexual harassment if a woman says it," he concluded, misunderstanding the definition of "sexual harassment".

"Xavier," Bishamonten chuckled as they finally began to eat, "it's the dawn of the Age of the May/October Office Romance… and we've got front-row seats."

.

That evening, Kumaraten found himself sucking down wine and trying not to snap at his sister-in-law. Shashi and Tenou had come over for dinner, and while Kahra was in a good mood, her husband was not.

His office was now unclean, and he felt like fumigating it with some sort of sterilizing smoke to purify his sacred workspace. Why him? Why poor Harold Kumaraten, who'd never done anything bad except shoplift a Coke in high school? Why didn't that flaming fruit Vahyu have to endure this defilement of his office?

Hell, Vahyu would probably swoon in beefcake-adoring ecstasy if Zouchouten had done steamy things with his assistant in the Ad Manager's office. And there had to have been steamy things done, because Kumaraten had come back, tried to unlock the door, and been bellowed at to fuck off.

So no, he wasn't in the mood to hear about how Shashi had convinced Taishakuten to have their wedding in Guam.

"And then we'll fly off to our honeymoon in France," she was saying pompously. "Arthur's assured me we'll stay in only the fanciest hotels, and we'll have a tour of the country's high points. I plan to hit up the Parisian high fashion districts first, of course."

"That sounds wonderful and so very, um, _romantic_, Shashi," Kahra replied, passing Tenou the salad. "How many guests did you say you plan to invite to Guam?"

"Around two hundred," Shashi replied, a happy tone in her voice. "If they're too poor to come we understand, but Arthur says if that happens he'll fill out the ranks with fellow businesspeople. He wants this to be a huge production, fit for an emperor, and I'm wholeheartedly behind that."

Kahra murmured something about how nice that he had that sort of money, and privately thought that _her _small, intimate wedding in a picturesque old chapel had been perfect, and this orgy of nuptial consumerism sounded simply awful. But of course she'd never _say _that.

Shashi and Kahra had had a convoluted relationship to get to the point where they went over for dinner and did things together for fun. They had started out very close, as twins inevitably were when young, although Shashi had been the one in charge from a very early age. She was the one to demand Kahra's snacks, hog the toys, and basically boss her sister around, but Kahra was okay with that. She was shy, hated confrontation, and also hated causing anyone else pain.

This had continued into high school, where Kahra had been a wallflower and Shashi had been the head cheerleader. When Kahra went off to be a nun immediately after graduation, Shashi had begged her not to devote her life to good works, because who else would understand her so well?

"Kahra," she'd wailed dramatically, "don't go into the convent! They'll make you wear a habit and pray the rosary sixteen times a day, and if you stay out here, I'll take you clubbing and fix you up with a handsome man!"

"I'm sorry Shashi," the postulate had sighed, "but I need to do this. And my order doesn't wear habits, by the way. I feel the call of the religious life, and nothing can sway me from it."

But two mere years later, something had. A certain, grumpy engineering grad student kept hanging around the church of "Our Lady of Perpetual Penitence" where the order attended Mass daily, despite being more and more convinced that God was a social construct made up to explain natural phenomena, and in this age of science useless. He'd always sit as near to Sister Mary Frances Lipschnitzski as he could, and smile at her.

Finally she got up the courage to strike up a conversation with him after Mass had ended. "My," she said as confidently as she could, "you sure love your hand sanitizer."

"Oh yes," Kumaraten replied seriously. "Shaking hands for the 'Peace be with you' bit is a surefire way to contract potential diseases. I always make sure I have some with me. Here, would you like some too?" he offered gallantly, smiling a brilliant smile.

As all sorts of interesting feelings rose up in Sister Mary Frances, he gave her a generous helping of hand sanitizer and went on, "My name's Harold. Harold Kumaraten. What's yours? I've noticed you amongst all those elderly women, and I've always been curious why you chose the religious life."

"I'm Kahra. I mean, I'm Sister Mary Frances Lipschnitzski," she hastily amended, as the Mother Superior looked over and frowned. "And I, er, I chose to be a nun because… um…"

Suddenly, all that devotion to helping the less fortunate and loving the Holy Trinity seemed kind of pale in comparison to talking to this man. She hastily reminded herself that Satan was always trying to tempt you, and that confession would take care of that sin of thinking that maybe she shouldn't have chosen to be a nun after all.

"Because I love God!" she finished, flushing a bit. "And this was the only Catholic option open to being a female religious."

"You know, _I _think women should be allowed to be priests. Or priestesses," he amended with a grin. "I think you'd make a great priestess, and –"

"Sister Mary Frances!" the Mother Superior howled, making them both jump. "Get away from the dissident and come back to the convent! Remember, tomorrow we plan our service trip to stop gay 'rights' in the nation's capitol, and I want you to come with us. Tell that young man to stop bothering you and pray twenty 'Hail Marys' in penance!"

Kahra had no choice but to mumble a quick farewell and trudge back to the convent. But a seed of doubt had been planted, and she ended up wriggling out of the service trip to DC. So when she was one of three nuns left a month later while the rest were away, she sneaked out at night to have dinner with the dissident.

That had been that. By the time the Mother Superior came back, flush with self-righteous fury that the deviant heathens had dared to counter-protest, Sister Mary Frances had decided that actually, she wanted to be a creative writer and date Kumaraten.

Shashi had been both pleased by Kahra's decision and a bit disappointed in her sister's choice of consorts. Oh, Kumaraten was good-looking, but what was up with his hairstyle? And he didn't like her, which made him a bad person. But he and Kahra had fallen deep in love, and things had gone well for Shashi and Kahra… until their Aunt Sophia died.

She had, back when they were ten, promised Kahra her sapphire pendant and Shashi her ruby ring. But when the will was read, she'd left both to Shashi, having been afflicted with Alzheimer's when she last revised her will. Shashi had thought, "Score!" but then Kahra had insisted, rather nervously but firmly, that as Shashi already had the ring, she should have the pendant.

It got blown completely out of proportion, ending in a screaming row a month later. They'd been sending letters and phone calls back and forth (Shashi lived in Philadelphia, Kahra lived in Zenmi), and after that fight they'd cut off all communication for eight years.

Finally they'd reconciled when Tenou was six (Shashi had also handed over the pendant), and Kahra had been very pleased to meet her nephew. Her husband hadn't been so excited, and lamented how Tenou hadn't wiped his shoes before coming into their home. And had to be reminded to wash his hands before dinner. Clearly, the little boy was a walking bacteria breeding ground!

But now… now he liked him, an awful lot. Tenou was fun, and conscientiously washed his hands all the time, took off his shoes, and made sure to use hand sanitizer of his own whenever he interacted with his uncle.

The conversation now drifted to Kumaraten's odd return home:

"Honey," Kahra sighed, "I wish you'd tell me what happened at work. It's good to talk things out! When I asked why he was so grouchy he told me I didn't need to know," she directed at Shashi and Tenou.

Shashi sneered a bit, because a man who said that was clearly hiding something big. If her brother-in-law was having an affair, she would come down on him like a ton of sister-protecting bricks! And then she could say something like, "I knew all along that Harold was a scumbag! You should have listened to me, Kahra."

The subject was then changed to Kumaraten's idea to buy a new car, and which would be the best choice. He thought he was safe, but after dessert, as Shashi and Kahra went out to look at the flowers in the garden, he was proven wrong.

"Uncle Harold," Tenou asked, exceedingly curious and using the "puppy eyes" approach, "why were you so upset when you came home from work? Why didn't you tell Aunt Kahra what's wrong?"

Kumaraten wanted to say, "Well Tenou, I'm pretty sure that my boss used my office for adult purposes this afternoon, and I shudder to think what kind of microbes are now crawling around in it. Leaving aside that aspect… that's my office! You don't have sex in someone _else's _office! If you have a fantasy of workplace sex fine, but use your own!"

Instead, he muttered something about having to skip a meeting he was looking forwards to because he'd mislaid his briefcase. Tenou nodded, completely unaware that his pal had sullied his uncle's precious space, and chattered on about the new song he was learning.

"My friend Seiryuu wrote it," he told his distracted kin. "It's called 'Come Have Some Cookies', and it's a ballad about neighbors sharing homemade desserts. See, Mother thinks he and his family are stupid, and we're trying to make her like them. _I _know they're great, but she thinks they're thugs and that Sei and Haku are incestuous gay lovers."

Kumaraten blinked, only having registered "incestuous gay lovers". "Um, Tenou," he said in appalled surprise, "Tenou, I'm sorry, I missed that. Are you talking about some award-winning modern literature you have to read for class, or something?"

Kumaraten was often disgusted by the topics modern authors chose to focus on. Addiction, cheating, abuse, terrible things to do for fun, and sex scenes so detailed he wondered how these books didn't end up in the "adult" section of bookstores. Why didn't they write happy stories about normal, healthy romance that ended well, and action sequences that were heart-pounding but not sickeningly graphic? Personally, he missed "Harry Potter".

"Oh no, this is real," Tenou replied, which made Kumaraten want to gag. Then his nephew continued, "Mother is convinced our neighbors, who are brothers, are secretly screwing, but she's _waaayyy _off the mark! They're not gay lovers at all. There's no incest going on."

"What a relief," Kumaraten mumbled, putting a hand to his forehead. "For a moment there, Tenou, I was horrified. So, um… listen, Tenou," he said, because he had to let this out somehow, "say you had a boss, one you really liked but that did something bad in your office, would you confront him about it or pretend it hadn't happened?"

"Well, I suppose that'd depend on how bad it was," Tenou replied in a reasonable tone. "I mean, if it wasn't too bad, I'd forgive and forget."

"Oh, let's say it was _really _bad," Kumaraten replied. "Let's say your office would never be the same again. Let's say you'd have to spend a lot of money to get it back to normal, and it'd still make you uncomfortable to be in it. Should I tell him he should pay for the deep-cleaning?"

"Yeah," Tenou said, sounding very suspicious. "Why, what'd he do? Hey… isn't Aaron your boss?"

"How did you know that?" Kumaraten asked, flabbergasted.

"He's my friend," Tenou informed him happily. "I like him. So whatever it is he did, it can't have been _that _bad! So I think you might be overreacting," he smiled, giving his uncle a pat on the arm.

Kumaraten decided that okay, he wouldn't tell his nephew that his buddy had defiled his uncle's workspace after all. So he nodded, smiled, and steered the conversation back around to Tenou's not-incestuous neighbors.

.

.

(AN: Snicker… Bishamonten's such a tattletale ["I _saw_ it"]. And while it would have been much more in character for Taishakuten to publicly strip Zouchouten of his position and transfer Karura to Argentina, I've made a conscious effort to tone down his nastiness for this story. Here he's more… all-knowing but entertained by his employees' doings, kind of like a scientist watching mice run around in a maze.

And before you ask: yes, there was indeed sex in that office, poor Kumaraten. Be grateful, Zouchouten, because you let her slip through your fingers a couple times in the manga! That's actually my favorite pairing EVER, and I don't care if it's officially not to be.

So why did Kujaku look proud? What brought on the locked office door? And how will Zouchouten and Karura live this down? Stick around.)


	12. Salacious Gossip

_In which love lives are discussed in detail_

.

.

The next day, a Friday, found a little group in the cafeteria, gossiping about the new development. Yes, Kujaku and Yasha too had spilled the beans. They'd told Souma and Kuyou, and Koumokuten had told Vahyu and Varuna, and Vahyu had told Jaime, who told Rob, who told Solomon, who told… you get the idea.

So for this momentous event, differences had been put aside between the Ad Manager, the executive assistant with the boss from Hell, the executive assistant with the boss who thought he was a god, the executive assistant with the boss who'd found out this little secret, and the secretary who had yesterday composed a poem called "Ellen And Aaron Got It On In Harold's Office".

"Well, all _I _know," Varuna was saying solemnly, "is that she wasn't at the morning briefing yesterday. Aaron was all alone, and he said she hadn't called in and he was worried."

"Oh, that can't be true," Vahyu sniffed, waving an unconvinced hand. "That woman never misses work! And she'd call, for sure."

"He's right," Yasha and Souma said in unison. Souma smiled at Yasha and went on, "She wasn't there. Everybody wondered where she was, and Aaron said he'd tried to call her and he'd gotten no answer. He looked really worried, too."

"Huh. Well, maybe her alarm clock didn't go off, and she didn't hear her phone?" Vahyu wondered, trying to distract everyone from the fact that he'd been wrong.

"Maybe."

Yasha looked around the cafeteria. It was pretty full; it was twelve-thirty-seven after all. No doubt the diners at the tables near them were straining their ears to hear this, and soon the tale would be spread absolutely everywhere, if Vahyu's loose lips hadn't taken care of that already.

But hey, not his problem! If his friend and her new man were dumb enough to pull something like that, they deserved the gossip that would result from it. They should have thought of the consequences before they got busy in Kumaraten's workspace, which Yasha had to imagine was now being sprayed with Lysol and possibly exorcised for good measure. Poor, poor Kumaraten.

"They were in there for two hours," Yasha informed Souma, Vahyu, and Varuna. "And Reginald said when he came in, they didn't even try to deny it. And _now _he says Taishakuten's going to let them keep their positions, which is surprisingly nice of him and I think he's up to something."

"Maybe he's setting them up," Souma agreed. "That jerk is just the type of person to make you think you're on solid ground, and then he yanks the rug out from under your feet. Maybe we should warn them?"

"He had a little chat with them yesterday," Kujaku replied, "and when he left, he was frigging _smiling_, like this was so funny to him. And Aaron's secretary Sandra said there was no yelling at all, and while she heard some serious voices, Artie chuckled before he came out!"

"Wow, he's such a hard man to pin down," Vahyu sighed, sounding a bit covetous. "Anyway… I just have to wonder what in the world persuaded them to have sex in a semi-public place, and why they chose Harold's office."

"Because that's where Aaron was when Ellen came in," Kujaku revealed proudly. "Lemme tell you all about it.

"I heard it from Harold himself," he shared gleefully, Souma and Yasha leaning in. "_He _said he was handing him a technical file and she slammed the door open and told him to leave. When Aaron started to ask what was wrong she _pushed Harold out the door!_"

"Dear God," Yasha muttered. "Was she crazed?"

Souma just smiled, "I think that was very brave and progressive of her, to take matters into her own hands like that. I mean, c'mon, he kept passing up all those chances to tell her what he felt. He probably would have gone on indefinitely like that."

Kujaku nodded somewhat proudly, lounging in his chair like it was the throne of "I know everything". "See, she _was_ way late yesterday, and guess why," he ordered grandly, giving them all that secretive smirk.

"Their eyes met the day before and she realized the depth of his feelings for her?" Souma tried.

"He'd confessed his love in his office?" Yasha guessed.

"They'd had a drunken tryst the night before?" Varuna asked.

"He emailed her a picture of intimate body parts," Vahyu said matter-of-factly.

Kujaku beamed at the first two, frowned at the next-to-last, and glared at the last one. "Good God no, you pervy sicko. She was late yesterday because," he paused for effect, then proclaimed, "I played Cupid! I hacked his laptop, which Sandra handed over because I won a bet, and discovered his secret stash of… guess."

"Stalker pictures of her?" That was Varuna.

"Albino babe porn." That was Vahyu.

"Heartfelt journals," Yasha threw out.

"Love letters to her," Souma grinned.

Kujaku fist-bumped Souma and answered, "Yes indeed my friend, which of course were never meant to be sent. But whoopsie, I accidentally emailed all of them to her home computer, silly me," he said innocently. "She was probably up all night reading them 'cause there were a lot, and that's why she was late."

Yasha lectured, "Victor, have you no shame? Stealing the man's PC, snooping through his private files, sending those private files to someone else? I can't believe you."

Now Kujaku patted Yasha's head and chuckled, "But it worked, didn't it? And Harold _also _said that when he came back later to get his briefcase, the door was locked and Aaron snarled at him to fuck off when he tried to unlock it. And he also_ also_ said that he heard some _reeeally _interesting noises before he –"

"Oh shit, she just walked in!" Vahyu hissed, clenching his latte like it was the handle of a shield. "She's scary! If she finds out we were gossiping about her she'll use the 'Icy Warrior Queen' tone and make us cry in penance."

"Act casual," Kujaku ordered quietly, smiling at Karura. "Now, watch this. She'll never suspect we were talking about her if…

"Ellen," he called, waving her over, "Ellen, come sit with us!"

Karura looked over, holding her tray of lunch, and smiled. She walked over as they all smiled back in as unsuspicious a manner as they could. Souma's was believable, Yasha's was believable, Kujaku's was really believable, Vahyu's looked fake, and Varuna's was so cheery it was clear he was hiding something.

So when she set her tray down and greeted them, she was not fooled. She took a seat, studied them as a whole, then one by one, and finally sighed, "You were talking about me, weren't you."

"No! Never," Souma, Yasha, Kujaku, and Vahyu chorused, as innocently as they could. Vahyu even went so far as to put a hand over his heart in shocked offense that she would think such an _awful _thing.

But no sooner had they all finished saying that, than Varuna nodded and admitted, "Yeah."

Everybody else glared at him, but Karura just replied, "Thank you for being honest, Edward. The rest of you must think I'm stupid, if I'd believe such a lie. Charles, your act isn't fooling anyone, so stop that pout and give it up. And Nina, don't kick Edward under the table, that's mean."

As Varuna whimpered and rubbed his right shin, Kujaku smiled brilliantly and rolled with the punches. He sang, "Well, now that the cat's outta the bag, we get to grill you!"

"Is he big?" Vahyu asked eagerly, throwing himself onto the bandwagon. "Don't tell me, he's huge!"

"Did you get rugburn, or did you do it on Harold's desk?" Souma queried gleefully.

"Did you use protection? You should always use protection," Varuna said firmly.

"Did he suggest it, or did you?" Yasha questioned solemnly.

"Will there be a mini-Aaron with peach-fuzz sideburns in nine months?" Kujaku joked irreverently. "Or a mini-Ellen who never smiles except at her family?"

Karura glared as she was asked inappropriate questions, and answered them all at once with a barked, "That's private, and I'm not discussing it. You people should all be ashamed of yourselves, asking things like that!"

"My question wasn't bad!" Kujaku nearly whined. "I was trying to make everybody laugh!"

"You failed," she snapped. "Utterly. And if you all can't behave like adults instead of middle-schoolers, I will sit somewhere else. Don't make me counter-attack you, because I know things about each and every one of you that you probably hope nobody else does."

Everyone but Vahyu turned red and avoided her eyes, but the Ad Manager tried to call her bluff with a belligerent, "Oh yeah? Like what?"

"Like the way two of your mirrors are positioned so you get a reflection right at Xavier's crotch level when he opens your door," she smirked, which made Kujaku make a face, Yasha send Vahyu a "You sicko" look, Souma question his intelligence, and Varuna edge away from him.

Vahyu himself muttered, "Pure coincidence," but said nothing else.

"So…" Souma said, trying to find a safe yet juicy topic to focus on, "does your sister know about this?"

"Yes," Karura replied, picking up some rice. "She's very happy about it, she likes him a lot. They've met before, you see, when she came to sing for him. They hit it off at once, and she hugged him around the waist because she couldn't reach any higher," she sighed fondly.

"Cute," Yasha muttered, uninterested in adorable little sisters. "So, um, is she aware of the, er, physical aspect?"

"And here you say _I'm _promiscuous," Vahyu sniped exuberantly, before she could answer. "I mean, you got horizontal with your boss just like _that_," he snapped his fingers, "with no warning whatsoever. Ha."

"I've loved Aaron for years," she said flatly, thus making Kujaku shoot Yasha a "Toldja" smirk. Ha, he won the bet! Now Yasha would have to buy him a month's supply of Rocky Road ice cream, plus deal with all the brags of "Guess who was right! All along, James. Just call me Righty McRightington!"

"Oh," Varuna and Vahyu said stupidly. Varuna rallied and continued, "But he kept hitting on you and you never noticed!"

"I thought he was just being friendly," she snapped in response. "He never asked me out, or said anything like, 'Ellen, you are so beautiful,' or sent me flowers for no apparent reason, or on Valentine's Day. I mean, he sent Karyou flowers for her birthday too."

Everybody else decided that she was just incredibly unobservant, but oh well, nobody was perfect.

"Well, now that you have a man," Souma said with finality, "maybe it's time to update your image. Change your wardrobe, buy skirts instead of those pantsuits. Skirts are great!" She herself wore black skirts every single day, and oh boy, they were short.

"And maybe part those bangs on the side," Vahyu suggested helpfully, "and curl the rest into waves for a sexy, classic look. Your current hairstyle is, I'm sorry, weird, with that longer ponytail part."

"Aaron likes my hair," Karura sniffed, holding her head high. "He says it's exotic and fits me, and he _also _says that he'd resign and move to Alaska to live in a fishing shack if I came with him."

Kujaku could just picture that: Zouchouten and Karura wearing Inuit clothes in a frozen wasteland, their burning hearts keeping them warm (or something). Zouchouten would harpoon a narwhal and hoist it over his shoulder to impress Karura, who would grin and slaughter it expertly while Karyoubinga played with the sled dogs. They'd have their little sealskin hut and never have to worry about Taishakuten again.

"But enough about me," Karura sighed as Kujaku envisioned the Alaskan love shack. "Since I can tell you're all firmly in a gossip state of mind: what do you think of Taishakuten and his fiancée?"

Everyone else glommed onto this new direction; the majority of them hated that man and the other one thought that, while he was definitely sexy, his scariness made him off-limits. Yes, this was an acceptable new topic! Karura/Zouchouten was _so _a minute ago.

"It's a mad, mad world when a non-employee can abuse a Senior Vice President in the workplace," Karura said angrily, "and when he mentions it to his boss the bastard tells him to stop whining! She's like the nobility in pre-Revolution France: she's got carte blanche to do whatever she wants, no consequences, and she's abusing her power like nobody's business."

"You wanna know what she did to Xavier?" Varuna chipped in. "She walked in while he was on the phone with his wife, and stole it out of his hand! And Aguni talked to her! While Xavier couldn't do anything but sit there, because he'd heard about how Taishakuten reacted to Aaron's plea for help."

"That's almost funny," Yasha smirked.

"He must really love her," Souma sighed, sounding disappointed that Taishakuten had such a nice relationship. "And when she shows up, she's all smiles and kisses, but I just can't shake the feeling that this is some sort of act to her. But clearly, there's been sex, because he had me order her some lingerie so pricy, it should have been diamond-studded."

Yasha wondered, "Do you think she calls him something like 'Taishie' in bed? I find it hard to believe she calls him," he shot Kujaku an exasperated look, " 'Artie'."

"She probably just calls him 'Arthur'," Karura decided, then sipped some more water. When she was finished with that, she went on, "That brings the total of people who are on a first-name basis with that man up to two. Karl Ashuraou and Shashi Prince… they're in the exclusive 'Taishakuten Friendship Club'."

Everyone else stared at her, their mouths open. "You just… you just made a joke," Varuna said in awe. "My God, you _do _have a sense of humor! See Charles," he smiled, turning to Vahyu, "she's not an emotionless ice queen after all."

Karura glared at Vahyu, and continued with the Taishakuten bashing.

.

As Karura and Co. discussed Shashi and Taishakuten, Zouchouten studiously avoided Koumokuten's gaze on the other side of the cafeteria, taking great interest in his roast beef. Koumokuten was grinning like a pointer who'd just found a really plump bird, one with a broken wing and a clutch of helpless chicks to boot.

"So," he said matter-of-factly.

"So," Zouchouten replied, stabbing a piece of meat and pretending it was public scrutiny.

Oh, he knew what was coming. Koumokuten and Bishamonten had popped in earlier to share the news that guess what, they knew, and soon everybody would know, and ha-ha-ha, people were standing around water coolers convinced the head of R and D and his assistant had been having an affair for years.

They'd made it clear that they were pleased by this new turn of events, but oh God, he _really _wished Bishamonten had come in only a minute later. And then things wouldn't be splashed all over the company social landscape. He and Karura had decided before Bishamonten's appearance that yes, they should probably transfer her so they could be together, and they would have given a reason like "Being professionals, we think this would be an conflict of interest, we're responsible, etc."

"Reginald says you remind him of Donald Trump now," Koumokuten threw out, "with silly hair and a girlfriend who wasn't even born when you hit twenty!"

"You can tell Reginald that he can stuff it," Zouchouten snarled. "And you can stop emailing me with the heading 'Hey cradle robber'. Ellen's not a little girl! She's twenty-six years old, and she can make her own decisions, and I love her and she loves me, so put that in your pipe and smoke it, you nosy buffoon."

"Oh, it's clear to me she _does _love you," Koumokuten replied, not smoking as ordered. "Anybody who pulls something like that was probably wound so tightly in the 'unrequited desire' department she just snapped."

"We are not discussing Ellen's sexual frustration, or current lack thereof," Zouchouten growled, his eyes resembling that of a big cat who'd been annoyed by a small, yappy dog for far too long. "Yes, I slept with her in Harold's office. I admit it, and I'd do it again, but this time I'd stay in there until everybody else left so I wouldn't have to deal with this."

"And I'm sure she went home with you too," Koumokuten smirked, in an encouraging manner.

"No," Zouchouten snapped, and then reluctantly admitted, "I went home with her. Well, I mean, I stopped at my house to let my dog out and make arrangements for Laura next door to take care of her in the morning."

"Well Aaron," Koumokuten said sweetly, "I'm sure you're tired from all the hot sex last night, so I'll just eat my fajita and let you remember that one thing she did." It was a vague guess, but hey, the odds were in his favor that she'd done something really arousing.

It worked; Zouchouten turned deep red and muttered, "You have no way of knowing about that."

"Anyway," Koumokuten said after he'd finished grinning triumphantly, "surely now that you've tasted the fruit of mad passion with the woman you love, you'll agree that Reginald deserves the same thing with Shashi?"

"No I don't," Zouchouten grumbled. "Reginald deserves to get back together with Kisshouten and be madly passionate with her, dammit. I don't know why I don't just warn him about what you're trying to do. By all rights I should."

"I know why," Koumokuten smirked, then leaned in and murmured, "Because you're not sure, are you? You know he wants her, you're not stupid. You can't help but think, 'He _is_ into her, and Kisshouten's gone anyway.' You can't help but wonder if he's going to go after her."

Zouchouten admitted, "Yes. I mean, I knew he wanted her the day they met again. You didn't believe it, but I saw it."

"Yes, props to you. But it's so obvious now! I mean, Taishakuten said, 'I'm sorry I was so distracted, I was remembering last night with my fiancée,' and Reginald just got this _horrified _look on his face. You had to have seen it too! Being Reginald he quickly snapped out of it and murmured, 'How nice,' but I'll bet you anything he wanted to smack him across the face."

"Which is silly," Zouchouten sighed. "What did he think they'd be doing on their wedding night? This is unhealthy, and he needs to let it go and focus on his wife coming back."

"I just question his taste," Koumokuten sighed in reply. "That woman is the bitchiest, snottiest, rudest, power-hungry ho I've ever seen, and I can't believe my wife likes her. She acts like an empress or something, and I've started mentally referring to her as 'Queen Shashi'. Or 'Bitch Doctor', but 'Queen Shashi' is the default by now."

Zouchouten had to agree with that assessment, and muttered, "She swung a golf club in the hallway and hit the ball into my office the other day, Xavier. Remember? What kind of conceited, arrogant, downright terrible person does that?"

"I used to practice my putting in underlings' offices," Koumokuten said proudly, "and when I wanted to punish them I yelled 'Fore!' and swung back really far so they'd all instinctively duck."

Well, Zouchouten's rhetorical question had received an answer and no mistake, he sighed.

"But my brilliant plan," Koumokuten went on grandly, "will result in happy Reginald, severely toned-down Shashi, and a better tomorrow for us all. Because once they get back together, love will mellow his irritability and her meanness. I mean, c'mon, look at _me!_"

Zouchouten had to admit Koumokuten had a point. Mention the name "Aguni" and he became a love-stricken fool, one who bandied about stupid terms of endearment and proclaimed undying love with sentences like, "Amazon babe, if I ever lost you, I'd learn necromancy to bring you back to me."

But at the same time, he was still a ruthless mofo to everybody else! So Zouchouten had to believe that Shashi and Bishamonten would be all sappy when together, and just as bad in regards to the rest of the world.

"Xavier, I want you to stop this stupid plan," he ordered. "Messing around with people's lives never ends well."

"Maybe I'm going about this the wrong way," Koumokuten thought out loud, ignoring his pal. "Working just on Reginald hasn't produced results. If only I could stand Shashi long enough to nudge her towards him! After all," he said seriously, sharing the secrets of the universe, "it takes two to tango."

"Ellen knows how to tango," Zouchouten replied, sharing fabulous, riveting news. "We're going to a ballroom this weekend."

"Aguni knows how to rumba," Koumokuten said huffily, "but we're not talking about her or Ellen. We're talking about Reginald and Shashi here, Aaron, so stop smiling like a dumbass and focus on that."

"I've made my feelings on this very clear," Zouchouten rumbled ominously. "I refuse to join your plot, and in fact, do you know what? I'm going to try to get Kisshouten back earlier."

"Don't do _that_," Koumokuten whined. "If you do that, we're stuck with Queen Shashi forever!"

.

A week later, things had settled down. And in fact, a new problem had reared its head: Zouchouten wouldn't stop talking about how great Karura was whenever they were apart. While they were together they were professional and more on it than before, but separate them and it was time for "You know, Ellen knows all about pet therapy, Reginald. You should consider that to help you through this hard time."

Bishamonten had to pray this would pass. Yippee, Karura could drive a car! Woo-hoo, Karura was a great big sister! Yowza, Karura liked fettuccine alfredo! How would he have _ever _lived without this important knowledge?

As he came back from an executive lunch ("Have I told you two that Ellen likes to cook?"), he encountered a sight that made him want to groan. Kujaku was tossing a hackeysack around as he sat in his chair, and at the sight of his boss he caught it with a guilty expression on his face.

"Sir," Yasha tattled solemnly, "Victor ruined the lamp. The pottery part's been broken."

Bishamonten looked down at the unfortunate lamp. Kujaku had fixed it, but by sticking "Finding Nemo" Band-Aids around the break. The whole effect was bright, youthful, and utterly tacky.

"Victor," Bishamonten said in clipped tones, "order another lamp from the supply team and pay for it yourself. Why were you playing with a hackeysack anyway? I never thought I'd say this, but what happened to the paperclip sculptures?" Those at least were constructive, not destructive.

"James threw my latest sculpture out the window," Kujaku pouted. "It landed on a ledge five stories down, and I can't fly so I can't get it. And it was a pair of ravens, and it was awesome, so tonight, James doesn't –"

"Yes, I threw it out the window," Yasha interrupted, saying this in the way someone might say, "I saved that baby's life." "I have had enough of you stealing office supplies and playing around, Victor! And Mr. Bishamonten has too."

"Yes I have," Bishamonten decided, crossing his arms. "Victor, if I ever see you even pocket a paperclip again, I will give you a pay cut. And a hackeysack will merit an even bigger one. Now turn the lamp so the Band-Aids face the wall and we'll replace it as soon as possible."

"I'm sorry," Kujaku said sincerely. "Really I am. But Reginald… you've already taken away my accents and without my paperclips, I don't think you want to see what I'll do."

"Are you threatening me, Victor Kujaku?" Bishamonten hissed, using that deadly cold tone that made everyone from janitors to Zouchouten gulp and hastily apologize. "If you're threatening me, we're headed in a direction I don't think _you _want to be going in. If you're threatening me, it would be wise to apologize and never do it again."

"It wasn't a threat, geez," Kujaku protested, apparently unaffected by the "dangerous mutha" tone. "I was just trying to say that I'll get bored, and come up with something to occupy my time that you might like even less, that's all. No need to turn the blade so quickly!"

"You will behave. I mean it. James and I are completely professional, it's not too much to ask that you follow our example," Bishamonten growled. "If you get so bored, ask me what you can be doing to help! I'm sure I can come up with something."

"That's fair," Kujaku smiled. "Great idea. Yes, I'll do that."

And so…

"Reginald, I'm bored!"

"Reginald, I'm bored again!"

"Bored again, Reginald!"

"Hey Reginald, guess what?"

"You're bored," Bishamonten groaned, interrupted once more.

It had only been a week, and he was running out of menial little tasks for Kujaku to do. His files were expertly organized, the office was shiny and clean, the new lamp had been polished no less than three times, the magazines had all been arranged in five different ways, and that scratch on one of the framed prints had been buffed away.

Goddammit, this was an office! The man shouldn't be _able _to have time on his hands! What sort of superhuman freak was he dealing with here?

"Victor," he decided then, to save his own sanity, "if you stop bothering me, you may have your paperclips back. With the expectation that you continue working hard when something comes up, and that you use paperclips from home. Deal?"

"DEAL!" Kujaku sang, as Yasha glowered in the background. "In thanks, you know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna make _you _a sculpture! What would you like?"

_An anatomically correct Shashi, full-sized and wearing only a little bow on her neck, _Bishamonten's mind immediately proclaimed.

Kujaku and Yasha watched in astonishment as he beat his head against his desk, his fists clenched upon it. And here he'd been doing so well! Here he'd thought he'd accepted the fact that she belonged to somebody else, somebody who'd probably play Veterinarian and Dog To Be Neutered if he knew about that instinctual request.

"Whoa, Reginald, chill out! I don't _have _to make one for you!" Kujaku pleaded. "You can just have my undying gratitude if it bugs you so much!"

"That will be just fine, thank you," Bishamonten muttered, sitting back up and massaging his forehead. "James… go get me an aspirin."

.

The next day found Koumokuten strolling into work in a good mood. He'd had pancakes for breakfast that were shaped like little hearts (Tamara had gotten round ones, which made her pout), he was wearing a snazzy new tie (black with little red drops of blood, to replace the one with little red skulls), he'd just gotten his hair trimmed yesterday (he hadn't tipped at all), and he was whistling a great song he'd heard on the radio ("Down With The Sickness", he liked '90s rock).

And in his briefcase, contraband downers with the potential to really mess up his judgment: three cans of Bud Light. He'd taken his laptop out to just carry, and ha, no one was the wiser that he'd smuggled in alcohol!

Why was he doing such a stupid thing? Was he secretly an alcoholic and Aguni hadn't thought to search his briefcase? Was he planning on getting a hot secretary drunk and pulling her into a locked room a la Karura and Zouchouten? Was he plotting to spike Vahyu's spring water and thus make him act silly, which would be phenomenal entertainment?

Thankfully, none of the above. No, this was a tradition! It had begun back when Jikokuten had served his pals green tea for any purely social meetings they might have, and Koumokuten had figured out that hey, if he brought beer, he could say, "Aw no thanks Darrel, I've got my own beverage." It had evolved into the ritual of "Whenever Aaron and I have a work powwow, we reward ourselves with beer."

And it honestly wasn't that much of a secret. Bishamonten knew about it, Taishakuten knew about it, and the big boss didn't care as long as they didn't get tipsy. Just another example of the hypocrisy of the management of Tenkai Corporation, because they didn't even let the workers smoke on the premises. And they enforced that rule like cigarette Gestapo, unlike almost everywhere else, which was too bad for those with asthma.

Koumokuten had a good morning. Varuna had managed to get his coffee order right, he was able to shine in the morning briefing, Vahyu came up with some dynamite ideas, and Aguni called no less then five times. He called her four times, because he was the General of Marketing, he could have his cake and eat it too.

And then, after lunch, as he walked to the secret rendezvous with Zouchouten and beer… his day became bad.

He turned a corner and encountered Shashi, who was wearing sunglasses for that movie star look and a nasty smile. His immediate instinct was to walk backwards and hide in another room, but too late now. All he could do was paste a smile on and hope she'd lose interest in him soon.

"Hi, Qu– Dr. Prince," he hastily amended. "What, um, what brings you up here?"

"I'm here to thank Reginald for last night," she said arrogantly.

Koumokuten blinked in surprise, cheering inside his head. Yes, they'd gotten it on! Yaayyy! Now it was only a matter of time before she broke up with Taishakuten and instead married –

"Tenou had such a nice time at the Science Museum Reginald took him to, which meant that my son wasn't hanging around with subversive elements instead," she continued, dashing his hopes. "Anyway, after I thank Reginald, I'm going to go out to lunch with Arthur."

"That's nice. So, um, you know, Reginald sure likes being with you and your son," Koumokuten smiled, seeing an opportunity. "He's having a lot of fun with you two, I can see it. Does he ever reminisce on your days together?"

Bad move. A giant "Warning! Do not go there!" sign flashed up in Shashi's mind, just in time to block the thought of "No, and I wish he would, because _I _think about it all the time." And now she was feeling threatened, and when Shashi Prince felt threatened, she lashed out.

"You're a very nosy man," she snapped, glaring at him. "Mind your own business, instead of bothering me about my personal life. I never ask _you _about your day-to-day affairs."

"It would be polite if you did," he replied grumpily. "Nice people fake interest in small talk, I'll have you know."

"Are you calling me a bitch, Xavier? You'd better not be, for your own safety," she snarled, looking rather elegantly feral. "Arthur won't be pleased if I tell him you were insulting his beloved future wife."

"I wasn't calling you a bitch! I was just pointing out that society puts great emphasis on small talk," Koumokuten protested, calling her just that and many other nasty names in his mind.

Shashi wasn't satisfied, and attacked him again with a haughty, "I'm surprised someone like you would even know what society expects. You put your foot in your mouth all the time, and lord it over your underlings, and slack off like a high school senior in May, everyone knows it."

"At least I work in this company, unlike some people I could name who treat it as their playground and don't make it a cent," he growled in reply, his knuckles white on the handle of his briefcase from his grip.

"I am the CEO's fiancée," she reminded him sharply. "And thus his power is shared with me! And we all know that without him, none of you would be where you are today. You'd all be scattered throughout the business world, the heads of piddling little companies that would probably have been edged out of the market when Arthur came around."

She had a point about Taishakuten, Koumokuten had to admit. Heck, Battlefield Incorporated, his company before he joined the "rebellion" for Tenkai Corporation, had been good but not good enough. Why, he'd only had a regular mansion, not the rockstar dream house he had now.

"And Xavier," Shashi was continuing with an evil grin, "as Arthur's wife, I will have the power to exclude you from all parties, picnics, and other events. You will be out in the cold of this company's social landscape, watching through the window as the rest of us mingle."

"Lady," he hissed, "I'm telling Aguni you're being such a stuck-up witch! I thought you liked her!"

She snapped, "I like Aguni very much. _She _will be invited to parties, but you will not. And neither will Aaron, who'll probably be fired soon anyway for his audacity to yell at me the other day. The two of you have been used to being big men on campus, but that's about to change."

Koumokuten swelled with rage, and snarled, "Aguni and I are a team! Our union was forged in the passionate flames of –"

"Enough with the fire metaphors!" Shashi snarled back, leaning in to stick a manicured finger in his red face. "My point was, I don't like you and I'll make things hard for you if you don't shape up. _Reginald _gives me the respect I deserve, and if you and Mr. Mountain Man can't do the same you will suffer the consequences."

The words "Reginald wants to get into your pants, and for some reason loves you" were on Koumokuten's tongue, but he bit them down and instead snapped, "You know, I've been nice. I complimented your pantsuit, I let my daughter pal around with your son, and I never tell my wife how much I dislike you and want her to find a new friend. And you treat me like I'm inferior! Show a little respect if you want any back, is all I'm saying," he finished, glaring at her.

"I don't have to respect you if I don't want to!" she crowed. "But _you_ have to respect _me_. So get that through your thick skull, and when you do, things will settle down."

Koumokuten now wanted to beat her head in with his briefcase. He could plead temporary insanity, and Zouchouten would back him up. He could wail on her until blood splashed the walls and three big guys had to pull him off, and he could blink like he was coming to his senses and go, "Wow, what happened? What's with all the blood?"

But for all his idiotic violent metaphors and stupid nicknames for his wife, he was a smart man, and quickly shoved that urge down. Taishakuten would get him locked away, probably in a prison full of bull queers, and killing somebody in an office was a bad thing to do. Killing this ho at all was a bad thing to do, because even if he made it look like she died of natural causes, Taishakuten and especially Bishamonten would probably take all their grief out on everybody else.

So instead he sighed, "Look, I have to be somewhere, so can you please stop blocking my way? It's important," he said firmly. It was important but not in the business sense, but she didn't have to know that.

"You may pass," she said grandly, stepping aside. "Go on with your day, and remember what I said. If you don't, I'll have to tell Aguni that you've been bad. _She_ likes me, you know. You might do well to follow her example."

Koumokuten had once asked his beloved fire muffin, "Aguni, honey, will you please explain why you like Shashi so much? She's been nothing but rude to me."

"I like Shashi because she's a strong woman," Aguni had gaily replied. "Uncompromising, not afraid of anything. Her personality is powerful, and you know how powerful mine is too, so we're kindred spirits. And is she really so mean to you, snugglebear?"

"Baby, you saw her at that dinner! And you know she snatched my phone away when I was talking to you!" he'd nearly whined. "And she told me to consider plastic surgery so she wouldn't have to look at my 'ugly mug'!"

"That last one was uncalled for," Aguni had agreed with a slight frown. Her husband had started to smile before she'd continued, "But dear, I think you're overreacting to the rest. Are you feeling threatened by a woman with power?"

"No! Just that particular woman with power," he'd grumbled. "You know very well Amazons are one of my turn-ons."

After which there had been snugglebunnies, to use Kujaku's term. Koumokuten just figured that Aguni simply didn't know the _real _Shashi, and if the slut ever insulted him like that when his wife was around, surely that warrior woman personality would step in and defend her precious "dark overlord of desire".

So he let Shashi have the last word and continued on his way, glaring at anyone unfortunate enough to encounter him. When he reached the conference room he'd reserved for "a meeting to determine how best to negate work stress", Zouchouten was already there.

"What's with the sour face?" he asked. "Did Charles have another really dumb idea or hit on Edward?"

"No, Charles had some great ideas, one of which involves Chris Brown being eaten by feminist bears," Koumokuten snapped. "And I think he views Edward as that rarest of men: one he just doesn't think is sexy."

"Ellen doesn't think he's sexy either," Zouchouten said seriously.

Koumokuten set his briefcase down with much more force than was necessary, but didn't reply. He opened it and passed a beer to Zouchouten, and they raised them in a toast.

"To de-stressing," Zouchouten intoned.

"To Chris Brown being eaten by bears," Koumokuten intoned in turn. They opened the cans and drank deeply, then set them down and sighed in unison.

"You wanna know why I was pissed?" Koumokuten asked, and before his friend could reply he went on, "I bumped into Queen Shashi on the way down here. She said she wouldn't invite me to any company social events! And that I had to respect her."

"Oh. Damn it, that woman needs to stop throwing her weight around," Zouchouten growled. "Or rather, Taishakuten's weight around."

"She acts like she's the CEO, not him! And he thinks it's funny, and lets her do what she wants. She's got her claws into him like…" Koumokuten searched for a good comparison, and came up with, "Some sort of bird of prey!"

Zouchouten smiled dreamily and chuckled, "Ellen loves birds. She has an entire room as an aviary. And she named one of the new canary hatchlings after me, isn't that sweet?"

Koumokuten gave him a look. It said, "For God's sake man, pay attention to_ me_." He took another swig, then muttered, "Swell. Aaron, this isn't good."

Zouchouten shook himself out of his Karura-centric reverie and replied, "No, it's not. It scares me. But Xavier, I stand by my decision that I will not interfere! The fact that she accepted Taishakuten's proposal should give even you a hint that she and Reginald had their shot, and it's over."

Koumokuten glared into his beer can and grumbled, in a petulant tone, "But Reginald's getting deeper and deeper into her, even though he's obviously trying not to."

Zouchouten groaned aloud, "I know. Poor guy."

He slammed back more beer, unconcerned about intoxication because it was only one and his ability to be unaffected by it was phenomenal. "Xavier," he said when he'd finished swallowing, "surely you've realized that not only is he in love with Shashi, he's –"

"Aaron! Xavier! What are you _doing?_"

Bishamonten himself had just slammed the door open, glaring. He caught sight of the alcohol and hissed, "Is this some sort of party for slackers? I hate when you two pull this!"

Zouchouten looked guilty. Koumokuten looked guilty and annoyed.

"Um, Reginald," Zouchouten tried, smiling as innocently as he could manage, "we saved one for you. It's Bud Light, I know you like that."

Bishamonten was not mollified in the least, and snapped, "Let me make sure I've got this straight: you smuggle in beer, sit here in a conference room to drink it while you're on the clock, probably gossip like old women, and think offering me said beer will negate your misdeeds?"

Koumokuten managed a weak, "Well, when you put it like that…"

Then Zouchouten did the most devious thing possible: he grinned like a fool and sighed, "Ellen drinks beer when I offer it to her, you know. Yesterday, she –"

Bishamonten slammed the door shut as Zouchouten congratulated himself mentally for his successful ploy. Good, now Bishamonten would avoid this room for a little while, and he and Koumokuten could finish the alcohol and then make their escapes, and with any luck Bishamonten would avoid him then too.

Koumokuten drained his can quickly and mumbled, "That's just _fascinating_,Aaron. Truly. I've gotta go."

Zouchouten watched him run off, shrugged, nursed his own beverage for a bit longer, and then got up himself, thinking, _Oh well. I probably should stop talking about her all the time._

…_Nah._

.

.

(AN: Only Vahyu would think Zouchouten would send his beloved assistant inappropriate pictures. Perv. And oh dear, Kujaku's created a monster! Nonstop talk about Karura will probably result in a blowup from somebody someday.

Oh, and kids: don't drink beer, because you don't have Zouchouten's BMI. And don't emulate Koumokuten and sneak it into your workplace if you do. He's not somebody you should be imitating anyway!

Next time, Koumokuten will sing a little song and wear something resembling the turban he's got in the manga, and Shashi will tell Tenou all about Richard Benson. Who's that, you ask? You'll find out soon enough.)


	13. Revelations

**Revelations**

_In which there is a surprise, and personal injury_

.

.

It was September 26th, 2012… and today was a special day. Tenou woke up early, all excited and having not slept very much, because this was his eighteenth birthday! Now he could get married (he wasn't going to, he had nobody), vote (that was a yes, he was very civilly conscious), sign legal papers (good, but not thrilling), be allowed into strip clubs and adult stores (no thanks, not for him), and most importantly:

His mother would tell him all about his father!

It was a Wednesday, which meant he had school, so he barreled down to the kitchen, determined not waste any time. Knowledge would be given as soon as possible, he vowed, before he had to go off to debate social Darwinism, dissect a frog, read "Hamlet", and do calculus problems.

_And then I can tell my friends all about him! And I can call Nathan and Hakuryuu and Seiryuu after school, and share the knowledge. They'll be happy too! And Hakuryuu said he'll make me a cake if my mom doesn't, which I think will be the case. She's usually too busy to bake._

Kahra and Kumaraten would be coming over on Saturday, so they'd know then, but maybe he'd call them up and tell them about his dad too. Such an exciting thing would be too big to hold inside, he could tell that already, and Kahra had already made it clear she didn't know about his father either.

"Your mom and I were estranged, remember?" she'd sighed when he'd asked her at age ten. "And she told me it was none of my business when I asked her who he was. So I'm just as in the dark as you are, honey."

As he rushed down the hallway to the stairs, he amused himself with a time-honored game: Who's My Daddy? He'd begun this game at age three, and it had stuck with him. He'd imagined being the offspring of the President, or a firefighter, or an astronaut, or a famous actor or rock star, or a secret agent who'd saved his mom's life and sacrificed himself to protect her from bad guys.

_Maybe he really was a firefighter, and died in the line of duty? Or maybe he was married, and is still out there and wants to meet me? Or conversely, maybe he was a religious guy and broke his vow of celibacy for her? She's already told me she loved him, so he wasn't some jerk with three other girlfriends who knocked her up and left her._

_Maybe he'll actually come over! Maybe he's still alive, and she called him up and invited him over for dinner. But then, if he's still alive, _his intelligence pointed out, _why wouldn't he have contacted me?_

_So he probably __is__ dead, _he decided with a disappointed sigh. _But there's that tiny chance he isn't! Or maybe he landed in prison, and though she loved him, she didn't want me to know what he did, whatever it might have been._

"Happy Birthday, Mr. Eighteen-Year-Old!" Shashi greeted as he came into the kitchen. "Oh honey, you're all grown up now! Makes me feel so old," she sighed, a bit ruefully.

"Mother, c'mon, you're forty-three," Tenou protested. "Forty is the new thirty, everybody keeps saying that. You're not old at all! And you _look _even younger. My friend Scott thought you were my big half-sister, remember?"

Oh yes, she remembered Scott. What a little smooth talker; he'd probably grow up to be a politician. Luckily he and Tenou were drifting apart, which was good, because she had the distinct sense the kid thought of her not as his friend's mom, but as a potential romantic partner. Blah.

"Thanks sweetie. I made you your favorite breakfast," she informed him proudly. "Waffles! And strawberries with whipped cream to boot. And orange juice, and tonight we'll have lasagna."

"Thanks, Mother," he said with heartfelt emotion. "Will you tell me about my dad now? That's what I _really _want for my birthday."

"Tenou, don't you want me to be able to talk about him for hours, instead of having to cut it short for you to go to school?" she asked him reasonably. "Honey, the minute you come home, we'll sit down and I'll tell you everything about your dad, and answer any questions you have about him."

Tenou made the hard decision that she was right, and agreed to hold off on his questions until he got back from school, "And since I quit fencing, we'll have lots of time to talk!"

Yes, he had prevailed in the war of after-school activities. Rene had been extremely upset, but miracle of miracles, he'd found another student to focus on that no one would have ever suspected: Charles Vahyu, who had been accompanying Tamara.

After talking his way onto the sparring mat, the former fencing aficionado had beaten Bernadette, to the shock of everyone present. After convincing the master to teach him one-on-one ("I'm _ever _so good with handling swords"), Vahyu had smacked Tenou on the back and chirped, "How fortunate for us all!"

Tamara had pouted; there went her chance to regularly stalk her object of affection.

"Yes, honey, you have lots of free time these days," Shashi said, her smile now looking a bit strained. "And you spend it all with your little friends next door, wailing on guitar and throwing away all you've worked for."

"Mother, c'mon, it's my birthday," Tenou sighed. "Let it go for _one _day out of the year."

She did, but only because of what day it was. They had breakfast, and he headed to school for what was the most difficult school day he'd ever had.

Not because people were mean to him, or he hadn't done his homework, or there was a test in every class; no, people were nice, his homework had been finished, and he didn't even have any quizzes. The difficulty was the _anticipation_. He was so distracted he messed up his counter-argument in the social Darwinism discussion, and lunch was the worst.

But finally he made it through, drove a little too fast to get home, and encountered his mother waiting for him, having taken half a day off for this occasion.

"Ready, sweetie?" she asked him as they took seats in the living room, right across from each other.

"Yeah."

"All right then. Tenou honey," she smiled, "your dad was a wonderful man, one who'd be so proud of you if he was still alive. His name was Richard. Richard Chad Benson, and I met him the first day I was in New York. He was looking forwards so much to being a father, and I'm sure that wherever he is now, he's watching you and cheering you on."

"How'd you meet him?" he asked eagerly. "Was he an actor too? Because you said you worked as an actress for a year."

"No, sweetie. You'll never believe this, but he was the taxi driver I hired to get me to the first hotel. And we just clicked, immediately. By the time he dropped me off, we'd exchanged numbers and agreed to go out to dinner on the weekend," she laughed.

"Was it love at first sight?" Tenou asked seriously. "Because, um, my birthday's in September and you said you moved to New York the previous December."

Talk about an awkward question to ask: "Mother, did you have sex with my dad immediately?" Still, Tenou was a firm believer in love at first sight, and clung to the belief that when he found his ideal woman, he would _know_. She had to be out there!

"Yes it _was_," Shashi sighed happily. "I felt like I'd known him forever in less than an hour. We talked about so much just when he was driving me, all about our lives and our hopes. It was amazing, sweetheart, you have no idea. So yes, Tenou, I did sleep with him very quickly, if that's what you were trying to get at."

"Sorry," he mumbled, a blush staining his cheeks. "I wasn't judging."

"I know, honey, of course you weren't. Anyway, I moved in with Richard once we found out I was pregnant. And then, about a month before your due date, he got into a terrible accident that killed him instantly. I was in shock, so sad I couldn't believe it," she said, a few tears in her eyes now as well.

"But that was that. I had very little time to grieve, because soon I had you. And you were the most important thing in the world, Tenou. I was so happy to be a mother, despite all the strain it put on me. You cried an awful lot," she told him matter-of-factly. "And you were hungry all the time."

"That's so sad, Mother," Tenou sighed. His poor mom, pregnant and giving birth all alone, on the heels of losing the man she loved!

"Yes, it is," she agreed. "But you can't change life, so I moved on. And like I said, you were so important, the best thing that ever happened to me. I wouldn't do a thing differently."

"Mother, can I see his pictures?" he asked eagerly. "There have to be some pictures, right?"

"Remember that box the idiot movers lost?" she asked, sounding extremely annoyed. "The one from my room? Honey, it had the photo album I was going to give you, which had pictures of your dad and me, and just your dad, and I still hope they locate it but they probably never will," she said in a disgusted tone.

Tenou was immensely disappointed. He'd wanted put a face on the name "Richard Benson", and now he might never have that. So he asked her all sorts of questions about what he'd looked like, and got the answers of "tall, brunette, longish hair, a mustache, brown eyes, handsome, and with a brilliant smile."

"Cool. So my dad wasn't a secret agent, like I used to think he was," Tenou joked.

"No, he was a very kind taxi driver. I loved your father very much," Shashi said firmly. "He was the man I would have died for, and I wish he was still here. We would have all three of us been so happy together, and he probably would have bragged about you to all his friends.

"I'm not proud of the way we hopped into bed so quickly, but I can't bring myself to regret it. Richard was so sweet, and when we found out I was pregnant he cried with joy. He wanted to name you 'Richard Jr.' or 'Ricky' for short, but I insisted on a unique name," she grinned.

"Do you ever dream about him?" he asked quietly. "Do you ever think, 'He would have wanted to see this?' "

"Tenou," she told him, "I miss your father so much. I was deeply in love with him, and I sometimes wake up at night and wish he was sleeping next to me. But life goes on, and he's not there, and at the same time… you remind me so much of him, honey."

"Really?" he grinned. "How?"

"You have your dad's smile," she told him, patting his shoulder again. "And his quick wit, and his formidable intelligence, and his facial structure. And that intense look you get when you think… that's all from him."

"Can we find his family?" Tenou queried. "Do I have aunts and uncles and cousins I can get to know who can tell me their memories of him too?"

He loved Kahra and Kumaraten and all, but they were just two people. Maybe Richard had been from a big family, the kind with so many cousins family gatherings were like a circus. Maybe he had a whole boatload of relatives out there!

Shashi sighed, sounding very sad, and answered, "No sweetheart, Richard was an only child whose parents died before I knew him. He was all alone in the world, which is maybe why we clung to each other so fast and so tightly. I mean, he probably did have a cousin or two, but he never spoke of them so I don't know."

"Mother," Tenou asked seriously, "why didn't you tell me all this before? I thought something bad had happened."

"Oh, honey… I'm sorry," she apologized. "I was just so ashamed that I had you without being married, I guess. Even though these days, and even sort of back then, that's not a big deal anymore. And it kind of snowballed, you know. I'd gotten it into my head to tell you when you turned eighteen, and that was the way it was going to be no matter what."

"Well, it's okay," he assured her. "And here I'd thought he might have been sent to prison for murder, or something. I'm relieved to know he was a good guy who just wasn't your husband."

"He was a _very _good guy. I sometimes thought he was _too _nice!" she laughed.

"Wow," he smiled, flying high with new knowledge. "So I guess it was a good thing you and Reginald broke up, huh?"

"Yes indeed Tenou," she replied, squeezing his shoulder. "Reginald opened the door for Richard, and we never would have been happy together anyway," she lied.

She told him stories for hours: how Richard spent a ton of money at a carnival just so he could win her a stuffed monkey; how Richard wrote her a song and sang it to her in the moonlight, making a neighbor yell at them; how Richard hated milk and had to be forced into eating ice cream; and how Richard shaved his mustache one morning and she dropped her coffee in surprise.

As she climbed into bed that night, Shashi felt… relieved. The tale had been told, and it was a weight off her chest. Tenou was happy, and she was happy, and things were all right.

.

And then, one November day… her perfect life fell apart. She strolled into Taishakuten's office in a surprise visit, having dropped in on Koumokuten to harangue him for letting his daughter call Tenou at all hours of the day. She'd made him promise to rein her in, which he was secretly all too happy to do by now.

"I do _not _want that woman as my little girl's mother-in-law," he'd growled to Zouchouten a few days earlier. "I'm giving up my bid for pow– I mean, I've seen that Tenou isn't a good fit for Tamara."

Zouchouten had smirked and pretended to believe him.

"Arthur dearest," Shashi cooed now, sweeping into Taishakuten's office in a fetching overcoat-heeled boots ensemble, "Guess who's here! Are you making lots of lovely money and crushing the opposition like always?"

"Ah. Shashi. You didn't tell me you were coming over," he pointed out, "but perhaps this is for the best."

A bit confused by his almost solemn tone, she asked, "Is something wrong, Arthur?"

"Well," Taishakuten murmured, sounding almost bored, "I have something to tell you. You see, Shashi… I am ending our engagement because I'm in love with Karl. Now don't cry about it, please." And with that, he returned his attention to his computer as Souma gaped like a fish out of water.

Shashi herself put her hands on her hips and snapped, "Arthur, don't joke like that. It's not in the least bit funny. Don't make me tell Karl you're using him to try to be clever."

With a long-suffering expression on his face, Taishakuten minimized what he'd been working on and met her eyes again as he replied, "Oh, Karl is well aware of this. In fact, he and I spent last night together, and having been with him I can say with complete confidence that I am, in fact, homosexual."

Now it was Shashi's turn to gape. Ashuraou and Taishakuten? The fuckers! So much for liking Ashuraou, because what kind of manslut smiled at a woman's face and stole her fiancé behind her back?

"No," she rasped. "You – you can't break this engagement off! I _need _it!"

Not "I love you"… "I need it." _I need it so I'll be safe, and Tenou will have a father, and Reginald can smile and make sure he stays away from romantic thoughts about his boss's wife._

Taishakuten shook his head and replied, "I'm sorry, Shashi. I am. But it wouldn't work, we would have had to end it eventually, and it would have been harder for everyone then. I know you're upset, but you have to realize that I –"

"You can't just _decide_ you're gay!" she snarled. "You're forty-four years old! I find it hard to believe you didn't realize it before."

Taishakuten heaved a rather embarrassed sigh and admitted, "Actually, I did. I was just in very deep denial. But Karl makes me feel more alive than anyone ever has." He looked her in the eye and continued, "Even you. I like you an awful lot, but Shashi, I see now that I don't love you. I can't."

"Then why," she hissed, "did you date me? _You _asked _me_ out, and proposed!"

"I dated you for cover," he told her matter-of-factly. "People were starting to wonder about me, and not having worked through my denial I thought perhaps I would come to love you. Well, now that I've come to accept my homosexuality, I'm sure you'll agree that I'm in a better place," he smiled, like it was all about him, and wasn't it touching that he'd found himself?

Shashi felt like screaming and hurling him out his expensive windows. She'd counted on marrying him, but it hadn't started out like that! He'd led her on, and now that he had no more use for her he was tossing her away. Just like that, like her feelings didn't matter at all.

"Oh, and I'll be taking that ring back," he said casually. "No sense you keeping it now that our engagement is over."

Oh no. No, he wasn't going to get completely away with this!

So she glared daggers at him and snapped, "You gave it to me, it's _mine_. I'll never wear it again, but it's my property to sell, and it wasn't a family heirloom so you have no more claim on it!" she barked, holding up the finger next to the ring.

Taishakuten stood up, and suddenly the room seemed darker and more oppressive. "Shashi, I paid for that ring, and it was extremely expensive. You will return it to me," he ordered, holding out a hand. "Now."

She gulped a bit, but rallied a defiant, "No."

"Shashi… if you don't give me that ring," Taishakuten growled, his eyes flashing, "I will get my lawyer. And he will sue you, and you will lose. But only after paying hefty fees that you'll never get back. So _GIVE IT TO ME!_"

The last words were a thundering command, making Souma irrationally think she should give him something too, he was just that authoritative. Shashi's eyes widened, and while she was tempted to yell, "Any woman judge would side with me!" he was too scary to go against any more.

"Fine," she howled, ripping the coveted jewelry off. "Take it then!"

She hurled the ring at him as hard as she could, and it bounced off the middle of his forehead, opening a small gash. Taishakuten's mouth dropped open, simply shocked that someone had had the nerve to injure his wonderful self. How dare she overreact like this!

Grinning evilly, Souma went to go get the First Aid kit, then immediately assumed a look of poised disinterest when Taishakuten shot her a burning glare. Oh wow, two people she disliked were fighting! She was cheering for Shashi, though.

That very woman took a deep breath and screamed, "You lying, cheating, heartless, bastard of a man! How could you do this me? And Tenou too! He likes you, and he'll be hurt as well!"

"Tenou will get over it," Taishakuten snapped, trying to staunch the flow of blood. "You'll get over it too. And honestly Shashi, I don't care. Because I have Karl, and he and I matter more than you and Tenou do."

Shashi was speechless at this sentiment. What did he mean, they didn't matter? They mattered a lot! They were, after all, Dr. Shashi Prince and her beloved son, VIPS of life. But even without that, for Taishakuten to act like the woman he'd proposed to and his ex-future stepson were unimportant was a terrible thing to do.

"You and Karl need to die," she snarled, as Souma opened the First Aid kit and reluctantly began to minister to her boss. "Both of you need to be set on fire for what you did! And I hope his son booby-traps his bed so you two get electrocuted, or rigs the front door with acid in a bucket when you come over.

"And what about the mansion? I have my house on the market and all the hard work that entails, and I was counting on moving away from the neighbors from Planet Grunge!" she bellowed, stamping her foot.

"Karl and I will be living together in the new mansion," he said loftily as Souma dabbed at the blood, "and while young Ashura will no doubt throw a tantrum, the two of us will be very happy together. And by the way, if you scream at Karl I'll make things difficult for you."

He meant it, she could tell. They were enemies now, they both knew it, and though it killed her to admit this, he was more powerful than she was. That added to her fury, and she felt like kicking him in the balls with a spike heel and maybe stepping on his face for good measure.

"I _hate _you, Arthur, you lying scumbag," she snarled, venom in each syllable. "I will _never_ forgive you for what you did, and I hope that someday, someone, somewhere, will bring you down. Go to a fiery pit of Hell, and I hope Fred Phelps stages a demonstration in the lobby!"

With that she whirled, slammed the door shut, and hurtled down the hall, swearing under her breath and punching the button for the elevator so hard it was like Zouchouten on a bad day. She beat her fist against the wall while she waited for it to come, she kicked the walls when she was inside, and she scared anyone else who tried to come in (they all decided to wait for the next one).

She stormed back to her car, a hurricane of anger and betrayed shock, and screeched out of the parking lot so fast she left tracks of burned rubber on the asphalt. This was a near-tragedy, except she wasn't sad at all.

Taishakuten had ruined _everything! _And Ashuraou too, the selfish manwhore! Taishakuten had created a false expectation that had been just what she needed, and broken that apart with nary a regret. It was bad enough that he was gay and ended this engagement, but the worst part was that he'd offered it in the first place when it was a lie all along.

She stomped on the accelerator, taking her rage out on the freeway. She was speeding faster than she'd ever sped before, zipping in and out of lanes and cutting people off, and more than once if the other driver hadn't reacted fast enough she would have caused a probably fatal accident.

"I want to _kill him!_" she screamed at the windshield. "I want to get a large butcher knife and cut his genitals off first, and then his hair that he loves so much, and then I'll go from his toes to his neck! And then I want to kidnap Karl, drive him to a bubbling pit of lava, and push him in face-first! They can meet up and be gay together in HELL! AAARGGHH!

"And do you know what else I want to do? I want to stomp right into Reginald's office and tell him, 'Guess what? I killed your beloved boss! So now you'd better get down on your knees and fucking _worship _my body so I feel better,' right there in – his – stupid – office!"

She beat the steering wheel with each of those last four words, and at "office" the horn blared. Horns had been blaring for a while now, but this one was the loudest and it snapped her out of her near-berserker rage. She took a deep, hissed breath in through clenched teeth, held it for a few seconds, and let it out to help her calm down.

"But I can't do that last one," she growled. "It would ruin everything. Not after all the work I've put into keeping him at bay!

"That doesn't change the fact that it's getting harder. That doesn't change the fact that part of me is saying, 'With Arthur out of the picture, that brings Reginald into sharper focus.' That doesn't change the fact that he's what I think about all alone at night, when – oh, screw it."

She turned on angry rock music to help her feel better. As AC/DC sang about dirty deeds done dirt cheap, she felt a bit calmer. Yes… what she needed to do was focus on Taishakuten the callous jerk, and envision him killed by concrete shoes, cyanide, and TNT. And his necktie, and high voltage.

So she slowed down, just in time, unbeknownst to her. Right over the next hill were a squad car and an overeager rookie traffic cop, armed with a radar gun and just _itching _to write some miscreant a ticket. Alas for him, when Shashi passed by she was only speeding just as much as everybody else, and he missed handing down the biggest speeding ticket of his life.

.

When Souma came back from work that evening, she was perturbed. Taishakuten had demonstrated his complete and utter disregard for his ex-fiancée's feelings the moment his door had slammed. He'd sneered and murmured, "Foolish bitch. I'm so glad I'll never have to deal with her again."

And with that he had continued with his day.

Souma herself, despite how much she disliked Shashi, was utterly appalled at her boss's behavior, for a number of reasons. As she walked into her kitchen, she reviewed them in her mind.

Reason One: for lying about what he was. She got that America wasn't nearly as progressive as, say, Sweden on gay rights, and yes there was a lot of hate out there, but the times they were a-changin' and to snare a cover fiancée was terrible. She was a lesbian, and while she didn't flaunt it she was honest if asked. When people realized they knew a homosexual person, it made it less of a "them and us" thing.

Reason Two: for lying to the woman he'd been planning to marry. Souma was pretty sure Shashi hadn't really loved him either, but she'd at least been trying to get to that point, the darker woman could tell. She had believed he was sincere when he asked for her hand, and she'd certainly liked him, it had been plain to see.

Reason Three: for being completely unconcerned about what he'd done. He had no concept of being in the wrong! Instead he'd acted like Shashi had been out of line yelling at him, and Souma thought she should have been able to keep that ring. This was the biggest demonstration yet that the man didn't care about anyone but himself. Well, and apparently Ashuraou.

Souma now seriously considered asking for a transfer. If Taishakuten could say that to and about a woman everyone had thought he'd loved, he would do anything to anyone. How long would it be before he turned on Souma too, for the tiniest infraction?

She fantasized about it: she would get a job as the assistant of a _nice _boss, maybe… maybe Her Lady! Yes, maybe Her Lady was working somewhere in this company and they just hadn't crossed paths yet. Perhaps they'd take one look at each other and fall in love, rushing into each other's arms and sighing, "Where have you been all my life?"

Hey, Taishakuten had proven before that hard work could equal keeping your lover as your assistant! And Souma had worked incredibly hard, not only at business. She'd worked hard at not shaving Taishakuten bald, or beating him over the head with his laptop, and all sorts of things like that. She'd worked hard at not screaming in his face for what he'd done to her dad, and the world in general.

So she made the vow that she would continue working hard, and bide her time. She would look for Her Lady on the down-low, and when she found her, she'd get herself transferred!

But that night, the Shashi thing was still eating away at her. In fact, she had a nightmare about it:

She was standing in a room full of flowers, how nice. She was just reaching out to smell a rose when an angry voice said, "So… there's Arthur's loyal henchwoman!"

She turned around quickly, protesting, "I only work for him to get paid! I hate him personally! I feel bad when I see him do something terrible, like exploit someone's trusting nature or threaten them into doing what he wants!"

Shashi glared at her, wearing spiked armor. It was, honestly, rather slutty spiked armor, because her cleavage was shown, her belly was bared, it looked like it featured a chainmail thong, and the boots came up to her thighs and had spike heels. Still, she was clearly set to ride into battle, and Souma had a sinking feeling she knew who her opponent was.

"Oh yeah? Then why didn't you say something?" Shashi demanded, pointing a bigass sword at her, which she hadn't been holding a second ago. "You gave him First Aid instead!"

"I didn't want to lose my job," Souma pleaded, backing away. "But I felt sorry for you!"

"I'll bet you keep your mouth shut about it, won't you?" Shashi snarled, and she suddenly seemed to be getting bigger. "I'll bet you'll never tell anyone in case he finds out and fires you!"

"Um…"

Oh crap, Souma _had _decided not to mention this! It was too risky, and she really didn't want to have Taishakuten terminate her employment before she could find Her Lady.

"I knew it!" Shashi bellowed, and now she was ten times Souma's size. "Well, I know what to do with Arthur sympathizers!" And she lifted up a heeled foot right over Souma's head, nooo!

"AAAAAAHH!"

Souma woke up screaming, just before Mega-Shashi squished her. She gasped for breath, her eyes wide and covered in a cold sweat.

"Just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream," she chanted, clenching the sheets in her hands. "She's not a giant, and she won't step on me like I'm a cockroach. I'm safe, and she probably isn't even sparing a thought for me. She probably even forgot my name!"

But she couldn't get back to sleep. She tried counting sheep, then backwards from a hundred, then reading A History Of Grain, which she'd bought just for this purpose. Usually the big, boring book guns worked, but this time, she couldn't concentrate on the Mesopotamians and their barley and wheat.

Finally, at five-thirty in the morning, she accepted the fact that, while she wouldn't get to sleep in time for it to be worth it, she had to tell someone what had happened or her day would be ruined. She'd be distracted and make mistakes, and she didn't want to do that. And the sooner she did it, the better.

She considered who to call. Karura? She was probably up already, and even if she wasn't she would understand.

But alas, poor Souma got only messages on both Karura's cell phone and home phone. Getting even more agitated, she then ran through a mental list of other people who wouldn't bite her head off if she rang them up this early.

She sighed, dialed her best bet, and luckily got an answer.

.

Aguni, who was a morning person, had just decided that today she would have eggs for breakfast when a knock came from the front door. Frowning, she moved towards it. Burglars wouldn't be stupid enough to knock, and even if someone did come in through the window she'd just kick their head off. Then Koumokuten would praise her and loot the body.

So she opened the door with no fear and scowled, "What do – Aaron?"

Zouchouten sighed, waving half-heartedly, and greeted, "Good morning Aguni. Is Xavier up?"

Aguni, who was _so_ glad she'd put on a robe instead of wandering around in her negligee like she sometimes did this early, nodded, "Yes, he's upstairs. I think he's taking a shower. What's wrong?"

Zouchouten heaved a dismal sigh and told her, "Something's happened with Taishakuten, Aguni. Nina called me half an hour ago because she had to talk to _someone _about it."

Aguni was concerned. "How badly injured is he?" she asked, envisioning the CEO laid up in a body cast from a car crash or assassination attempt. Zouchouten shook his head and assured her, "Oh no, he's in perfect health. Listen, can you go get Xavier?"

She stepped back to let him in, then informed him frostily, "I am not Xavier's handler. Get him yourself, he's probably out of the shower and just doodling in the moisture on the mirror by now anyway. He tends to do that."

Zouchouten, who _really _didn't want to encounter shirtless or completely nude Koumokuten, tried a weak, "It's your house, I can't just wander around and –"

"First door on the right after the stairs, you can't miss it," Aguni ordered, hands on her hips. "He won't open the door if he's naked Aaron, honestly," she sighed, rolling her eyes at such idiocy. Her husband was not a stupid man, and not an exhibitionist either.

Zouchouten gave up and climbed the stairs. The strains of Koumokuten singing Rick James could be discerned, and clearly, Tamara had gotten her musical talent from Melissa. Her father had one of the worst voices Zouchouten had ever heard, and he was belting his song, to make it even worse:

"That girl is pretty kinky – The girl's a super freak! – She's all right, she's all right _–_"

Zouchouten winced and knocked on the door. "Xavier?" he called over the noise. "It's Aaron." _Stop singing, for the love of all that's good, I'm begging you._

"My wife's a super freak, super – the hell?"

In two seconds the door was yanked open and Koumokuten glared, wearing a long robe and a towel wrapped on his head like a turban (both black, the man loved black).

"Aaron, it's six in the morning. What the _hell _do you want?" he snarled. "This had better be good, moron."

"Taishakuten's gay and he broke off his engagement with Shashi," Zouchouten said matter-of-factly. He was quite surprised when Koumokuten grinned like his month had been made.

"All right! No more Queen Shashi!" Then the first part registered, and his eyes widened comically as he gasped, "GAY?"

Zouchouten nodded wordlessly, and Koumokuten considered, coming up with, "Well, I always did think it was kinda weird that I never saw him date before Shashi. And that he looked disgusted when I suggested using Kim Kardashian as a spokesperson once. And that he hung around… with Karl… so… much…"

He looked at Zouchouten and waited for confirmation. He got it; Zouchouten nodded fervently this time and said, "He and Karl are moving in together. Listen, yesterday, Shashi came by, and he broke it off then and there."

They huddled together, as if surveillance might pick up their words otherwise.

"Nina said that he was so blunt he may as well have used a baseball bat. She said he told her it was over and went back to his computer," Zouchouten confided. "And she went nuts."

Koumokuten snorted, "Well can you blame her?" He did his best Taishakuten impression: " 'Snookums, I can't marry you because I'm too busy sucking Karl's –' "

"Shut up," Zouchouten snapped. "But here's the biggest thing: she never said 'I love you'. At all. She was angry, but not broken-hearted."

Koumokuten thought, and then he smirked and prompted, "So you think…"

Zouchouten nodded one last time and whispered, "Yes." He took a deep breath, then solemnly said, "Kisshouten's still adamant about the separation, Shashi's newly single, Reginald's still miserable. Xavier… I'm in."

Koumokuten thought some more, then whipped the turban-towel off and shook out his hair. "Aaron," he grinned as Zouchouten frowned at the water droplets splashed onto his suit, "clear your calendar for this Friday night… because I'm throwing a little party."

Zouchouten started to smile as he asked, "And might this party's guest list include a certain brunette doctor and a certain redheaded executive?"

"It might," Koumokuten snickered, pulling his hair back into a ponytail. "It very well might."

.

That morning was an odd one. The ritual morning Senior VP meeting with Taishakuten had been cancelled, which made Bishamonten rather worried. Had something happened to him? But his call to Kuyou received the answer that yes, he was fine, and no, she didn't know what was going on, "But he wants to see you at one, sir. Like always."

He briefly considered calling Zouchouten or Koumokuten and speculating on what this might mean, but decided not to. Speculation was just that, no answers or hard truth. Had he called one of them, he would have been a lot more prepared for what went down once he showed up at one on the dot.

Kuyou nodded to him and sighed, "Mr. Taishakuten apologizes for canceling the morning briefing, which is something he never does for anything else. Clearly he's only concerned with his ability to make piles of money atop the piles of money he already has, which I might point out he never uses for worthy causes."

"Taishakuten can do what he wants with his money," Bishamonten barked, sick of Kuyou's attitude towards the CEO he adored. "There's no law that says billionaires have to be like Bill Gates or that goody-two-shoes Warren Buffet. He doesn't have to give a single cent to charity if he doesn't want to."

Bishamonten himself patronized the arts. Not anything that would directly help the poor, because surely the poor could have helped themselves if they'd stopped getting obese, having illegitimate children, and holding their hands out to the government. And honestly, the arts _were _important, and with an artist wife he appreciated them immensely. He'd been such a generous benefactor to the Zenmi Museum of Art that they'd named a wing after him, ha.

Kuyou said nothing in reply to his statement, but she had a grumpy expression on her face as she pressed the intercom button and said, "Mr. Bishamonten's here, Mr. Taishakuten." She said "Mr. Taishakuten" as if it meant "the bane of my existence".

"Tell him to come in," Taishakuten commanded.

As Bishamonten walked in, Souma walked out. She nodded to him and murmured, "He's in a good mood, sir."

That was good! Taishakuten deserved to be happy all the time, Bishamonten thought in complete oblivion. So he'd probably cancelled the meeting over a trifling little matter, like he'd been working on another hostile takeover.

In reality, he'd cancelled it because he'd been talking to Ashuraou, who had broken what he thought was good news to his horrified and soon shrieking son. When told that he'd be moving into a new house with Taishakuten, poor Ashura had thrown the tantrum to end all tantrums, and vowed that he would live with his grandparents instead.

Alas, they lived in Michigan, and were tickled pink that their son had found a mate. So no help there, and the tortured child had then decided that the only way he could go on was if Ashuraou bought him a puppy, which he would secretly train to attack Taishakuten! Ashuraou had agreed to buy him a puppy, completely unsuspecting of his son's ulterior motives.

When Bishamonten walked in, Taishakuten was hanging up his phone after calling a child psychologist to make an appointment for the little boy he couldn't _wait _to torment. Surely Ashuraou would agree that his son needed help and would take Ashura in, where he'd undoubtedly be diagnosed with severe bratopathy, Taishakuten congratulated himself.

Bishamonten gave his boss's face a quizzical look. The CEO was wearing a vertical Band-Aid smack-dab in the middle of his forehead, and the entire effect, due to the color of the thing, was almost like some sort of freakish third eye.

"Sir," Bishamonten ventured, "what happened to your forehead?"

"A mere trifling accident," Taishakuten replied airily. "A shallow cut, which I've taken care of. There should be no scarring once it heals fully, thank God. Anyway Reginald, let's hear your report."

Bishamonten gave his report, Taishakuten nodded and listened, and finally said, "Good job. I want you to keep an eye on Nina, actually. Today she's been so obedient and polite she _has _to be up to something. As we both know, she dislikes me."

"I will, sir," Bishamonten promised, turning to go.

"Oh, and Reginald?"

Bishamonten turned back just as Taishakuten said casually, "I'm gay." The CEO expected a shocked gasp or a drop of a coffee thermos, but Bishamonten just frowned, keeping a firm grip on his coffee and breathing normally.

"Gay? Not bisexual?" he asked in an even tone.

Taishakuten blinked, somewhat put out at being deprived of entertainment. "Gay," he replied, frowning a bit as well. "Um… Reginald… how did you…?"

Bishamonten shrugged and answered, "Well, I knew about George. You know, your high-school, one-night-stand crush whose class picture you keep in your desk."

Taishakuten was immensely confused. "How _did_ you know about George?" he asked almost desperately. He'd never given any hints to anyone about his mad passion for the guy, except of course to George. Wow, had _that _been a night to remember…

Bishamonten sipped his coffee, and revealed, "I went through your desk one day when you had pneumonia, you know, five years ago. It's clearly labeled 'George Jenkins, Palace High 1987' with little hearts drawn around his name. I ran the info through a search engine and called him up."

Taishakuten's brows lowered. "I told him not to tell anyone," he muttered petulantly.

Bishamonten drank more coffee, then continued, "He didn't tell me. His male lover did. From what I hear George was the football captain and you turned him out, sir."

Taishakuten looked almost pleased as he murmured, "Really."

"Really, sir."

It then dawned rather belatedly on Bishamonten that as far as he knew, Taishakuten was engaged to Shashi. His face paled as he asked hesitantly, "Sir, um, if you're _gay_,what about –?"

"I have ended my engagement with Shashi," his boss said serenely. He pushed his chair back and stood up, like that mistake was over and done with, never to be mentioned again. "Now Reginald, back to you poking around in my desk –"

"You _ended it?_" Bishamonten was stunned, angry, gleeful, and stunned and angry that he was gleeful. "But Taishakuten, she –"

"Shashi does not love me," Taishakuten threw out nonchalantly. "But really, this prying in my desk issue must be addressed, so don't try to change the subject."

He stepped forwards and plucked the thermos from Bishamonten's shaking hand, indulgently sighing, "Do pay attention, Reginald. Now, I appreciate your willingness to keep tabs on what goes on in this company like I told you to, but don't you think your boss, who gave you that order, should be exempt?"

Bishamonten barely heard him, because entire worlds of possibilities were suddenly opening up. He then realized that none of them involved Kisshouten, so he armed an atom bomb and blew the hell out of those worlds.

"Don't you?" Taishakuten's voice was all of a sudden very harsh, yanking his minion back to the real world of this office.

"Um… yessir. I'm sorry, Mr. Taishakuten, sir," Bishamonten said hastily, avoiding the CEO's steely eyes. "It will never happen again."

"Good."

Taishakuten went back to his desk, and did something that startled Bishamonten. He opened a drawer, picked up George's picture, ripped it to shreds, tossed the shreds into the wastebin... and pulled out a picture of Karl Ashuraou. This one was framed.

He set it on his desk, smiling ever so slightly, and told his underling, "You may go, Reginald."

Bishamonten picked up his coffee and went.

.

.

(AN: Yes, I'm aware that Koumokuten skipped a couple lines in "Super Freak", and butchered it in other ways too. Let's just hope he and Aguni never sing a duet; Tamara might have to go commit suicide, being an actually good singer and all. Rick James owns the song, I just borrow it for giggles.

So… Taishakuten/Lord Ashura. Didn't you always suspect something like that in this story? Just so you all know, I hate that pairing, but it is canon and it oh so conveniently negates Shashi/Taishakuten here, what a shame. So while you won't be getting any sex scenes or OOC mushy lines, console yourselves that the bastard God King and the bland War God are indeed together.

And Shashi: you rule, winging a heavy ring at Taishakuten! Too bad he won't have a permanent mark, oh well. And before you ask, I don't work for the Band-Aid company, or get paid for mentioning them.

In the upcoming chapter, we'll see Friday night play out. And Yasha be very embarrassed.)


	14. Cucumber Sandwiches

_In which Aguni plays social games and there is much sexual tension_

.

.

That afternoon found the office all abuzz with gossip about the CEO and his "best friend" (or, as Kujaku dubbed him, "Artie's little boobookins"). While Bishamonten and Zouchouten had only mentioned the new development to Yasha and Karura respectively, Koumokuten had called a special meeting to address the issue.

"So Taishakuten secretly has a thing for dicks," he'd said matter-of-factly, making Vahyu and his devoted advertising minions sigh, "Ooh!"

"He's banging Karl Ashuraou," Koumokuten had continued, glaring at the deviants. "He broke up with Shashi Prince. And if anyone mentions that I said that, I will burn the villages of your teams and sack your treasuries… AKA I'll fire some people and give you all pay cuts."

Unfortunately, he hadn't mandated that no one gossip about Taishakuten, so soon phones all over the skyscraper were ringing and people were gasping, "No!" or "I _knew _it!" or "I can't work for a homosexual! God might think I condone such a sin!" Or conversely, "I want footage!" More than half of the latter was said by women, which baffled Karura to no end.

"Personally," she sighed to Zouchouten, "I don't even want to think about it."

Zouchouten nodded in complete and appalled agreement, muttering, "Neither do I. I want to take a shower just hearing about it. C'mon, let's distract ourselves with that new design."

And, when Bishamonten showed up at the CEO's office for a meeting with Koumokuten, they found Kuyou crying her eyes out and Hanranya passing her Kleenexes with a grumpy look on her face. There was a very large pile of used Kleenexes on the desk beside her, and the carpet was starting to get soaked.

"What the hell?" Koumokuten whispered to Bishamonten, frowning at the scene presented to them. "Why are they both here? And what's wrong with Hanranya?"

Bishamonten whispered back, "I'll handle this." He stepped forward, and the two women glanced up at him. When he asked, "Did Taishakuten call you both in?" he got a startling answer.

"Taishakuten doesn't know I'm here," Hanranya sighed, patting her weeping sister's shoulder. "Kuyou called me at home and nearly broke down, so I came here to take over. She held it together until I showed up, and then it was too much to take."

Bishamonten was now exceedingly curious and confused. He'd thought Hanranya would be the sobbing one, but perhaps Kuyou was upset that Taishakuten was happy. Then again, now that he thought about it, Kuyou really, _really_ liked Ashuraou. Oh dear.

"Karl is in trouble," she bawled, "and I can't help him!"

Yup, Bishamonten was correct.

"He can't be with that man!" she continued in a wail, as Hanranya rolled her eyes. "Taishakuten is the man I abhor, and Karl is the man I love! Nooo!"

Bishamonten crossed his arms, annoyed at this breakdown when there was work to be done. "Kuyou, stop sniveling. Accept it and move on!" he ordered coldheartedly. They didn't pay her to whine, he thought in exasperation.

"Yes Kuyou, accept it and move on," Hanranya sneered. "_I _have, after all. No matter how much I wanted Taishakuten to suddenly sweep me into his arms and send Shashi to Patagonia, he's with Karl now. Suck it up."

Bishamonten was still annoyed, and unsurprised by Hanranya's confession. After all, the woman had given Taishakuten a giant heart-shaped box of chocolates on Valentine's Day. Taishakuten had eaten the chocolates in front of his Generals without sharing, but never thanked his devoted secretary. He was just that kind of man.

Kuyou sniffled, seem to collect herself, and then went to pieces again: "Taishakuten will destroy poor Karl! He'll strip his soul from him and walk all over him, and bully his son, and… and kill him a little each day with his evil!"

"Don't be so overdramatic," Bishamonten snarled. "There will be no soul-stripping, Kuyou. Right Xavier?" he asked, in the "Back me up" manner known by friends everywhere.

Koumokuten shook his head and agreed, "Nope, no soul-stripping. However, there will be actual stripping, mansex, and probably S and M with Taishakuten –"

"Thank you, Xavier," Bishamonten hissed. "Go call your wife, I'll take care of this."

Koumokuten beamed at this command and chuckled, "Okay then." He meandered off into a corner, hitting speed-dial, and Bishamonten wondered if Aguni ever got any gym teacher work done without interruptions. And did these people ever get message prompts, or did they always snatch the phone up and engage in sappiness?

"I only stayed here," Kuyou was continuing, "because I could see Karl when he visited! But now… now when he visits it'll only be to be Taishakuten's manslave! He'll call him in to fulfill alpha-male office fantasies, and I'll have to _hear _it!"

"You could just quit," Bishamonten snapped. "Or you can cry a river, build a bridge, and get over it. Kuyou, how long do you think it'll be before he hears –?"

"Kuyou," Taishakuten proclaimed, sticking his head out the door, "that's quite enough. Either stop whinging or you're fired. I mean it now," he stressed, giving her the glare he used on bad little minions who were about to be in big trouble.

Everyone else expected her to hiccup and sniffle, "Sorry Mr. Taishakuten sir," but they were very, very wrong.

Instead, she shoved Hanranya's hand off her shoulder, stood up, took a deep breath, and screamed, "You can't fire me, because I _quit_, you egomaniacal fucker who needs to die! You're a terrible boss and human being, and other companies would pay me more for what you have me do!"

Koumokuten was staring, having quickly hung up his phone, and Bishamonten was wondering if he should clap a hand over Kuyou's mouth so she didn't dig herself a deeper grave. Hanranya looked completely appalled, and Taishakuten seemed stunned that yet another woman was yelling at his perfect self.

"You can go to hell, Artie!" Kuyou bellowed, pointing a denunciatory finger at her enemy. "And I hope Karl bites down when you make him –"

"Kuyou," Bishamonten pleaded, "stop! Take a deep breath and –"

"And _you!_" she snarled, whirling on him. "You ass-kissing sycophant, you're almost as bad as he is! And Xavier," she raged, spinning to face Koumokuten, "you're not a military commander in an epic movie! You're a hideous bastard of a man with an ego bigger than your mannish wife's hair!"

"Don't insult my wonderful Aguni, you four-eyed bitch!" Koumokuten snarled in reply, and Bishamonten quickly held him back for going for Kuyou's throat. Although it would have been within his rights, he thought grumpily, to yell at her for the ass-kissing line, a brawl in the penthouse suite would be bad.

"I loved Karl, but now I see that he must be a very stupid man if he's with _you!_" she howled, turning to face Taishakuten again. "So though it'll be hard, I'll put him out of my mind and let him go, although I'll always pity him for his stupid choice! And when I land a job at a rival company with a much higher paycheck, I'll be a happy woman!"

Normal people might have been impressed by Kuyou's strength of character in realizing that she had to let Ashuraou go, not to mention telling it like it was to three powerful executives. Souma and Zouchouten probably would have had a hard time not applauding, but unfortunately, they weren't around.

"Kuyou," Taishakuten bellowed, "I demand an apology!"

"NO!" she bellowed back, making a rude gesture as Hanranya clapped her hands to her cheeks in horror. "I'm taking my picture of my cats," she grabbed it, "and I'm leaving. Goodbye, Artie, and rot in pieces!"

And before he could insist on punishment, she strode off, her head high and having wiped the tears from her face, a woman who was finally free from the chains of a terrible boss and an unrequited love. Directed at a man who, it must be said, was a bit of a moron for agreeing to be Taishakuten's little boobookins.

Everyone else stared after her, then Taishakuten snapped, "Hanranya, take over secretary duties immediately. Reginald and Xavier, let's start the meeting."

When the meeting was over, Bishamonten muttered, "That woman had a lot of nerve, insulting us like that."

He wasn't an ass-kissing sycophant! He was an incredibly loyal second-in-command, and so what if he never disagreed with Taishakuten? It wasn't his place.

"She _did_," Koumokuten agreed, scowling. "And Aguni's hair is perfect the way it is! It's part of her 'warrior woman' image, dammit. And she's got killer boobs, she's not mannish! Just in great shape.

"Anyway Reginald," he said cheerfully, changing the subject, "I'm having a party this Friday night, and you're invited. And I won't take 'no' for an answer. If you decline, I'll call you every five minutes to tell you how much fun the rest of us are having."

Bishamonten cocked his head, a bit confused. "That's rather short notice," he pointed out. "I mean, won't people already have other plans?"

"You won't," Koumokuten replied confidently. "I mean, c'mon, what else are you gonna do? Go play 'Clue' with your neighbors? The basketball coach and his fanboy, and their wives? I think not."

"Nicholas is a hockey coach," Bishamonten corrected, so he wouldn't have to admit that Koumokuten was so right it was scary. All he did after work lately was exercise, read, watch silly movies, and try not to think about how easy it would be to call a "companionship" agency, because Kisshouten was having a grand old time in Toronto and he was stuck here all alone.

"Hockey coach and his fanboy and associated wives, then," Koumokuten shrugged. "It'll be good for you! Taishakuten isn't coming because he's busy, but Aaron'll be there. It'll be an intimate little gathering: my family, you and Aaron, a couple other friends. And," he coaxed, "I recently bought some great new wine from a collector that we can open."

Bishamonten wavered. He was a bit of a wine snob, and truly, he'd be very bored on Friday night if he didn't go. On the other hand, watching Koumokuten and Aguni in their "happy married couple" interactions made him want to yell, "My wife used to call me 'snugglebear' too, dammit!"

"Reginald," Koumokuten smirked, "if you don't come, we'll talk about you the whole time. I mean it."

Bishamonten's decision had apparently been made for him. "Fine, Xavier," he sighed. "I'll be there. Just tell me what time it is and I'll make sure to be present."

Koumokuten beamed, and made a mental note to tell Shashi it was a formalwear party. Ha, then she'd show up in a sexy dress, because she was just that kind of woman. Of course, Aguni would then insist on wearing something sexy too, what a _shame._

.

And so, on Friday afternoon, Bishamonten was blissfully unaware that he'd be seeing Shashi in a sexy dress. He was even unaware that Aguni had bullied her into coming too, and that Tenou would be accompanying her as her "date". He was also unaware that Zouchouten and Koumokuten had considered spiking the expensive wine with an aphrodisiac, and then decided that with two teenagers around that was just asking for trouble.

"James," Bishamonten ordered, putting his computer on "standby", "let's go to lunch."

"Lunchtime!" Kujaku chirped as they walked out, bouncing up from his desk. "Hey James, I still think you look like Elvis today. Sing 'Hound Dog', I dare you to! I'll even sing along."

"Why _do _you have your lapels turned up like that?" Bishamonten asked, halting before he could get to the door. "Put them down, I mean it. This isn't the '70s."

As Kujaku sat back down and folded his hands almost demurely, Yasha tried, "I, er, I was, um… I was cold."

Bishamonten didn't buy that, and repeated, "Put them down. It's a dress code violation."

Yasha sighed, shot Kujaku an angry glance, and turned his lapels into the correct 2012 position as Bishamonten watched him like a hawk. And on his neck, right above the lapels, a pink mark could suddenly be seen.

"James," Bishamonten asked in amazement, "is that a… hickey?"

Why, Yasha had turned down each gorgeous babe Kisshouten had shoved at him. He stood stoically when secretaries tried to hug him. He ran away when women on the street screamed, "I'll have your baby!"

But apparently, he was getting some action. Bishamonten felt rather relieved about this, because he'd been beginning to think the man was asexual, like some sort of well-built, emotionally-retarded sea sponge. Good, he was human after all, not a robot or marine invertebrate.

Yasha flushed and tugged his collar up, quickly muttering, "Um, well, it's from, er –"

"It's from his lover," Kujaku cut in, beaming. As Yasha gave him a betrayed glower, Kujaku stuck his feet on the desk and put his hands behind his head, adding, "Of four years."

"Really?" Bishamonten smiled, patting Yasha on the shoulder. "That's wonderful. Who?"

This explained the blowing off of all those women, because cheating on a girlfriend of four years was a lowdown thing to do. Cheating at all was lowdown, and Bishamonten's conscience let that one go because ha-ha, he wasn't doing that at all!

Kujaku sighed almost dreamily, "Why, James's lover is a wonderful person_. _In fact, Reginald, you actually –"

"Yes, she's very attractive and intelligent," Yasha said, his face redder than Bishamonten's hair. "Her name's Christine."

Kujaku looked slightly angry about something. "Christine is a paragon of female virtue and beauty, huh James?" he asked sweetly. "With long blonde hair and poofy lips and double-D boobs."

"I wouldn't go that far," Yasha muttered, sounding embarrassed. Bishamonten understood this; if Kujaku had appraised Kisshouten's breasts he might have had to staple his secretary's ears to the wall, or find an equally painful punishment.

_And if he horns in on Shashi, I will – _

Bishamonten quickly shooed that inappropriate thought away and snapped, "Victor, please attempt to be decent and mature. I don't want the two of you to fight a duel for this woman's favor, or start beating your chests like gorillas."

As Yasha mumbled something like "Thank you sir", Kujaku's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Not to worry. I don't actually like Christine at all," he informed his boss, sounding a bit sullen.

Ah, no doubt Christine took Yasha's attention away from Kujaku at all social occasions. Kujaku tended to like being the life of the party, and he and Yasha were best friends after all. They always ate lunch together, often carpooled, and had once taken a road trip to Tucson.

Bishamonten smiled, glad that he'd averted a confrontation, and went to lunch.

It was a nice lunch, but then again, most lunches in the Tenkai Corporation cafeteria were nice, as Taishakuten insisted on very good food and excellent variety. Bishamonten finished his nice lunch, had a nice rest of the day, a nice drive to Koumokuten's… and a not-nice surprise when he walked in the door.

Shashi, wearing a sexy red dress even during the early winter, looked over and blinked in surprise as he entered. Oh well, if Zouchouten was here, she should have expected Bishamonten would round out the trio of Senior VPs.

Bishamonten himself wanted to take Koumokuten aside and punch him in the face, because why was she here? Didn't she have better things to do than tempt married men who were suddenly suspicious that Koumokuten had done this just to annoy them?

Unattainable ex-lovers were hard enough to resist, but when they were wearing sexy outfits that brought to mind "our song" they were downright terrible to see, if one was desperately trying to reconcile with one's estranged wife and not do something stupid. And damn it all, she was smiling at him, nooo!

Koumokuten and his wife had invited a few of Aguni's friends as well, none of which were from her job. Instead they were people with similar interests: kickboxing and frightening normal people.

But at least Tenou was present. On the other hand, so was Tamara. On the other other hand, Zouchouten was there as well. But alas and of course, so was Aguni, who was beaming at one of her frightening friends and holding Koumokuten around the waist.

And the hors d'oeuvres were cucumber sandwiches, nothing else. Apparently Koumokuten had decided that buying Madeira meant he could skimp on the munchies.

Bishamonten was all right with cucumber sandwiches, but Zouchouten almost hated them, having once attended a conference where the other little sandwiches were so awful, all he could eat were the cucumber ones. For three days. And he got hungry pretty often, given his body mass.

After a period of small talk where Bishamonten learned more than he ever wanted to know about extreme ping-pong from Mr. Havisham, he sat down at his assigned seat. It was directly across from Shashi, which wasn't a coincidence and he knew it very well. He did, however, think Koumokuten was trying to make him blow up, not get back together with her.

So he concentrated on his food, and talked to Mr. Havisham some more, as Shashi chatted with Aguni about my, aren't these table settings nice? She did rather wonder why Bishamonten seemed so fascinated with ping-pong, though.

After dinner, Koumokuten urged everybody, "Eat the sandwiches, we have tons more and they'll go to waste if you don't. Tamara picked them out, and didn't she make a great choice?" he asked cheerfully, and Zouchouten added that to his list of "Why I Hate Tamara".

Tenou obediently ate another sandwich, Shashi ate one too to be nice to Aguni, Koumokuten took three more, and Zouchouten reluctantly took his first and ate it with a sigh. Bishamonten used the "I'm still full from dinner, I'll have some later" ploy, and Aguni had no problems downing another piece of vegetable snackage.

Conversation started in earnest then, assisted by the most excellent wine, and people broke off into partners or little groups to discuss everything from Tamara's History class to Tenou's newfound career path.

"So," he chattered to Koumokuten, "Hakuryuu says I have a gift for electric guitar!"

Koumokuten smiled fixedly and replied, "That's… fantastically wonderful, Tenou." Then he grinned rather nastily and purred, "Does your mother think so too?"

"No," Tenou sighed. "Now she wants me to go back to flute! I mean, first she says play the flute, then she says play the acoustic guitar, and now that I'm learning electric, which is harder in some ways, she says play the flute again?" He seemed very annoyed.

"Does she hate electric?" Koumokuten asked piously. "I'll bet she does."

Tenou nodded, snagging another cucumber sandwich, and sighed, "She despises it, and says it's just noise."

Koumokuten patted him on the shoulder encouragingly, saying, "Don't listen to her. The wailing of electric is the best invention ever to happen to music. You know," he lied shamelessly, "my dad used to hate it too, but after I played it so much he came to love it."

Actually, Koumokuten's dad had _bought_ him an electric guitar back in the early '80s and taught him how to play, but Tenou didn't need to know that. So he belabored the point with a firm, "Practice, practice, practice. She'll get used to it."

As Koumokuten encouraged Shashi's son to annoy his mother, Zouchouten was encouraging Shashi herself to find someone new. But he couldn't be too obvious, he reminded himself; he couldn't say, "You know, I think you and Reginald would go well together, and he wants you."

"I'm sure," he murmured instead, "that somewhere out there is a man who would snap you up in a heartbeat. A strong, driven, very wonderful man."

Shashi's eyes were molten, making him blink in surprise. "What, like _you?_" she hissed, ready to slap this idiot. Aha, this explained the palling around with Tenou!

Zouchouten blanched and took a hasty step back before he made himself stop retreating. "Of course not me," he growled. "Dammit woman, I have Ellen, who wrote me an entire notebook of romantic poems!"

Her brows quirked in surprise as she asked, "Ellen? You mean that lovely –?"

"Yes," he hastened to assure her. "But enough about me. Look, Dr. Prince, as your son's friend I'm worried about you. Tenou said you _requested _double shifts at your clinic, and working yourself to death will do no one any good."

Shashi glared some more and replied, "Ask yourself this: if Ellen was suddenly gone and sleeping with her best friend, would you prefer throwing yourself into your work or moping around at home?"

She had him there, but Zouchouten was good at thinking on his feet, and he nimbly responded with, "Dr. Prince, surely you've realized that Mr. Taishakuten would have come out of the closet at some point anyway. Isn't it better that he ended your engagement and not your marriage? I'm sure it hurts, but not as much."

He had her there. She sighed, sipped her wine, and then murmured, "It was such a shock."

"For everyone," Zouchouten agreed, as Bishamonten idly moved closer with his own glass of wine. "I mean for God's sake, we all thought he just lived for his work. I was taken completely by surprise by his proclivities."

He caught sight of Bishamonten then and smiled, "Reginald, there you are. Xavier made sure to get the Madeira just for you."

"I'll have to thank him," Bishamonten murmured, keeping his eyes resolutely on Zouchouten.

Alas, Zouchouten was turning to go with a pleasant, "I think I need another cucumber sandwich, don't mind me. I'm sure you two will find something to talk about." And he strolled off, despite never wanting to see a cucumber sandwich again.

He forced himself to take one anyway and meandered over to Koumokuten, who had just left Tenou in Aguni's tender claws.

"Aaron," Koumokuten whispered, "they're talking!"

"Good," Zouchouten murmured, casually tossing the sandwich into a potted plant. "But she seems incredibly angry. I don't think tonight will have much of an impact, but perhaps in a month or so? We can keep throwing them together."

Koumokuten sighed, fiddling with an earring. "Damn. I'd hoped to lock them in the coatroom and make sure nobody let them out for hours. Then once they'd had sex, we could –"

"Xavier," Zouchouten groaned, "unless you stole their cell phones, that's a stupid idea."

Koumokuten grinned rather proudly and asked, "Who says I didn't?"

Zouchouten stared, shocked, as Koumokuten set his glass down, reached into both pockets, and brought out two phones. "See? No rescue calls for them," he proclaimed matter-of-factly.

Now Zouchouten glared and hissed, "No. We are not locking them in the coatroom! And how did you –?"

"I know all sorts of useful things," Koumokuten said glibly. "But okay, yeah, it wouldn't have worked anyway. I'll just set the phones on different tables and they'll think they dropped them."

Zouchouten muttered, "Sure they will," but let it go.

As the two of them changed the subject and discussed Yasha's love life, Shashi glared at Zouchouten's back. "Reginald, your taste in friends has declined," she said bitchily.

"No it hasn't," Bishamonten snapped, clenching a death grip onto his Madeira. "Aaron is a good man, and so is… Xavier is a decent man," he finished rather lamely. "Anyway Shashi, Tenou likes Aaron."

"Tenou also adores our insane neighbors," Shashi snapped back. "If someone is nice to him, he likes them!"

Bishamonten arched an eyebrow, unimpressed. "What a tragedy, to have a son who's so outgoing and loving," he drawled sarcastically. Truly, this woman had a heavy, heavy burden to bear with Tenou.

"You don't know what it's like," she hissed, leaning in. "He could get taken advantage of! You have no children, so how can you –"

Bishamonten glowered, eyes turning icy, and grumbled, "That's not my or Kisshouten's fault, Shashi, and it's very rude of you to use that against me. And if the adoption had gone through we'd both be singing a different tune, you know."

Her gaze softened, and she asked him, "Have you started a new process yet?"

"No."

He didn't tell her any more. He didn't tell her that he was still getting over the shock of the other one, and that Kisshouten still hadn't come back, and that despite how mad he was at Shashi, he wanted to grab her and carry her into an empty room for illicit affection.

But of course he wouldn't. Obviously. He was still married to and loved Kisshouten, and so what if Shashi was wearing a red dress? So was Aguni. Ha, yes, thinking of Aguni would negate all illicit affection urges.

Aguni herself looked at Bishamonten quizzically from across the room. "Xavier," she murmured, "he looks almost disgusted about something."

Koumokuten sighed, surreptitiously placing a cell phone on a table, and asked, "Babe, what does he have to be disgusted about? I mean, he's at a party and we got him his favorite alcohol!" What kind of freakish human being could be upset about that?

Aguni considered, then answered with, "His failing marriage, his boss coming out, his friends who pull strings behind his back."

Koumokuten just smiled, "Oh, you noticed. But see Aguni," he said nobly, "it's for his own good. As Reginald's best friend, it's my solemn duty to make sure he has a little light in his life."

She wasn't convinced, and sighed, "Right. That's why you chuckle nastily to yourself when you work on your master plan codenamed 'Love Motel'."

He frowned now, asking, "How did you know its name? Even Aaron thinks it's called 'Reconciliation Retreat'."

This was true, and Zouchouten would no doubt throw a fit if he'd seen the ultimate goal of Love Motel ("have Reginald and Bitch Doctor spend weeks getting naked in a tropical paradise, leaving _me_ to step into his shoes and demand a raise!").

Aguni patted his cheek and smirked, "Never mind how I know. But I'd like a new car, so perhaps I can be of service."

Koumokuten, bless his evil soul, didn't even think to consult his fellow conspirator. "That's a great idea, darling of my heart. Aaron and I'll work on Reginald and you can work on Shashi," he thought aloud. "Make her realize she should throw herself into his arms."

Aguni grinned in a predatory fashion, murmuring, "Shashi is a woman who doesn't know what she wants. The power of suggestion should work wonders," she decided.

So she moved over to Shashi, who quickly turned to her at the expense of that babbling moron Mr. Havisham. Aguni watched him pout and trudge away, and began her opening gambit.

"Terrence is such a bore sometimes, isn't he?" she asked, smiling at her friend. "He's ever so athletic and fun, but he doesn't get the art of conversation. I think his wife married him for his body, if I'm being completely honest."

Shashi assented, "Yes, his personality leaves something to be desired. And he is, er, very good-looking."

"Yes," Aguni murmured, "Delia met him at a gym. He was apparently hefting giant weights and wearing a muscle shirt, so can you blame her for taking a good, long look? I would have before I met Xavier, because hello, who doesn't like strong, handsome men?" Her expression could have been on a wolf about to feed as she proclaimed, "Strong, handsome men are some of my favorite things in the world."

Shashi gave Koumokuten a withering look, and wondered if Aguni was legally blind and just hid it well. "So, pardon my asking," she whispered, "why are you with someone like–?"

"Xavier is not a handsome man true," Aguni murmured in anticipatory response, "but he is just as bossy as I am if not more. And he's quite strong physically as well. And I love him. And in bed he's able to –"

"I'd rather not know," Shashi cut in rather desperately, and Aguni chalked up a mental point in the game of "Make Your Friend Uncomfortable". But it was all part of the plan, because an uncomfortable Shashi would seize on any new subject that came up as an escape.

So the gym teacher smiled some more and pointed out, "Reginald seems rather upset tonight, poor man. He's sulking like a little boy."

"No he's not," Shashi snapped. "For God's sake Aguni, his wife is living in Toronto! …Well, for a little while."

Aguni downright grinned and said, as innocently as she could, "I'll bet you wish she never comes back, hmm?" _I'll bet you wish her plane crashes if she does, or that her car goes off a bridge as she drives back to their house, or that Reginald got a giant dog with big teeth that'll go for her throat when she comes up the walk._

"Why would you think that?" Shashi whisper-screeched, her eyes suddenly resembling brown fireballs. "I don't wish that at all! Kisshouten's very nice, Aguni!"

The blonde made a strategic conversational retreat. "Yes she is, of course. My apologies, I shouldn't have assumed," she said quickly, then took a sip of wine like this was just idle small talk. "I just thought that since he's an old boyfriend, you might resent his wife, that's all."

"I don't resent his wife," Shashi lied, so expertly most people would have believed it. Aguni picked up on that falsehood though, and began another assault with, "Tell me Shashi… is he a good lay?"

Ha, talking about sex would do the trick! Who didn't get hot and bothered when they remembered time spent horizontal? Or at any other fun angles?

Shashi glared at her and muttered, "I think that's a bit of an inappropriate topic."

Alas, certain parts of her brain were yelling, "No no, it's a great topic! Remember that one time? With the caramel sauce? He went happily berserk! Quick, brag about it and make her think her husband's inadequate!"

"Why do you ask?" she continued hastily, trying to shut Primitive Female Brain up.

Aguni murmured, "I'm just curious. I've always wondered how big he is, and if he has any hidden kinks. Not that I'd cheat on my beloved Xavier, but I still _wonder._"

Shashi sighed, and decided that gossiping with a friend was safe, with the added bonus of putting down Koumokuten. "Well, I shouldn't be telling you this, but he's…"

As Shashi discussed her former lover in bed, Bishamonten himself was trapped by Zouchouten and Koumokuten, who were using the "make him jealous" ploy.

"Reginald," Koumokuten purred, "my wife and I are taking a trip to the Florida Keys soon. Isn't that romantic? I swear, there's nothing like the sunset over the water to make you glad you have that special someone to share it with."

He turned casually to Zouchouten and asked, "Say Aaron, does Ellen like to travel?"

"Yes," Zouchouten smiled, as Bishamonten downed more wine. "Ellen also loves romantic dinners and flowers. She was very pleased when I sent her red roses."

"That's so sweet," Koumokuten grinned. "Man, I'm sure glad I'm married to my beloved reason for living. Isn't it great, Aaron? Having that most cherished soul to share your life with, and knowing she's got your back on everything."

Zouchouten thought that was laying it on a little thick, but shrugged mentally and tried for subtlety.

"Yes, love is a precious thing," he nodded, visions of Karura battling visions of Bishamonten getting an epiphany for control of his mind's eye. "Something we all aspire to have."

Bishamonten drank even more wine almost angrily, with no epiphanies in evidence. Zouchouten noticed and tried to wordlessly communicate with Koumokuten to pull back, but no luck.

"Boy Aaron, you're right there," Koumokuten sighed, and sent an overdone sappy grin at Aguni, who grinned back triumphantly. "Hey Reginald… now that –"

"Xavier," Zouchouten interrupted smoothly, "I think your daughter wants you."

Indeed, Tamara was staring at her father and fidgeting. Koumokuten frowned and went over to her, as Bishamonten changed the subject with a curt, "Aaron, does your new dog have any health issues?"

As Zouchouten was enthusing about Lola, his adopted mixed breed, Tamara leaned in and whispered, "Daddy, Tenou keeps talking to Mrs. Lyonell! Make him talk to _me! _And make Aguni stop snickering, it's scary!"

Koumokuten's brows lowered. He was quite annoyed that Tamara had interrupted his brilliant plan to make Bishamonten suddenly realize that he wanted to dump Kisshouten and go for Shashi. And for what? To demand attention from Tenou.

"Tamara," he said, as calmly as he could, "Tenou and Mrs. Lyonell both like Motley Crue, and you only like… uh… that Bieber kid. And those… those Jonah Brothers and Justin Timberlake."

"I like lots of artists, and the Jonas Brothers were old news two years ago!" Tamara snapped. "Daddy, can I go get my iPod and share _my _music with him? I'm sure if he really listens to it, he'll see that it's much better than that stupid classic rock."

As Koumokuten decided that sure Princess, that's sweet of you, Bishamonten was enduring a further discussion of the females in Zouchouten's life: "And Lola adores Ellen! She gets all excited when she hears her coming up the front walk. And did I tell you that Ellen's sister Karyoubinga likes Lola too? It's so cute, and Ellen says…"

Finally Bishamonten managed to extricate himself with a lie of "I have to use the restroom, Aaron. I'll be right back." Without waiting for a response, he walked quickly towards the hallway, vowing to loiter in it for as long as he could.

He passed Tamara, who had cornered Tenou and forcibly stuck earbuds in his ears. Tenou gave him a desperate "Help me!" glance, but Bishamonten didn't notice it, because he was too busy noticing the faint sounds of a certain song.

"You know how the time flies, only yesterday was the time of our lives…"

He walked faster, almost paranoid that Adele was stalking him somehow through music.

_That's ridiculous Reginald, _he scolded himself as he slowed his steps. _She's completely unaware that you even exist! It's just a coincidence, that's all._

He found himself in the hallway, glaring at a picture of a Middle Eastern dancer with torches. It was a lovely painting, with folds of billowing cloth and a sensual subject, and he knew it well because Kisshouten had painted it. She'd given it to Aguni and Koumokuten as a wedding gift, in a gesture of goodwill.

Bishamonten glared some more, and was just about to go back and brave another onslaught of Lola, Karura, and ping-pong when he noticed a door slightly ajar down the hall. Oh good, a distraction!

It was Koumokuten's study, he saw as he opened the door a tiny bit more. Unbeknownst to Bishamonten, Koumokuten had been about to lock it for the party before a wail of "Daddy! I can't find my favorite shoes!" had interrupted him and he'd had to comfort his bereaved daughter.

But hmm… Koumokuten's study. Bishamonten was well aware that the other man was hiding something, and as Taishakuten's corporate spymaster that was worrying. Maybe the Marketing VP was plotting to betray the CEO, perhaps by mounting a coup attempt of his own?

Hopefully not. Hopefully it was something innocent yet embarrassing, like an affair with a sexy secretary, or… or Vahyu! Yes, that could be it, because Koumokuten would never live it down if the world knew he secretly dug male manicures and lavender aftershave.

So Bishamonten glanced casually to the right, glanced casually to left, and opened the door all the way and strolled in, then made sure to close it behind him and flip the light on. Okay… the desk drawers were probably locked, but there were a couple files on the desk and a few filing cabinets that might or might not be easy to open.

_Now, if I was plotting against Taishakuten, I'd hide any evidence in a locked safe… but Xavier is stupider than I am, so for all I know he's got a clearly-labeled file named "Plans To Topple My Boss"._

Alas, the two files on the desk seemed to be called "Tax Information" and "Tuition Statements", but he'd of course be checking them in case they weren't what they seemed. He reached out and picked up the hefty folder of "Tuition Statements" and flipped through it.

And it was, indeed, receipts for Westland Academy. Bishamonten's eyes almost bugged out when he added the figures and came up with a number so high, he wondered if Westland Academy had gold-trimmed bathroom fixtures, or something. Or Nobel-winning science teachers. You could go to a decent college for that amount of money!

So he set the file down and reached for "Tax Information"… just as the door opened and there was a slight intake of breath.

He whirled around, hiding the folder behind his back. "I was just trying to find something I lost," he lied hastily, and then realized who he was talking to. Shashi blinked at him, then grinned almost viciously.

"You were going through Xavier's things, don't lie," she said in a singsong voice. "Don't worry about _me._ I think the man should be fired and blacklisted, after all."

Bishamonten set the file down as she shut the door behind her and stepped forward, smirking. "And what are _you _doing in here?" he asked, in a nastier tone than he would have liked. "Are you following me?"

"No," she assured him. "I was on my way back from the bathroom and noticed the light on, and I was making sure Tamara hadn't dragged poor Tenou in here and tried to molest him."

"That girl scares me," Bishamonten muttered. "I'll bet you want to buy him a poison-tipped chastity belt or something so he's safe from her."

"He would probably prefer a cattle prod," Shashi corrected, "but of course he'd never _say _that. He's just too nice sometimes. I knew it would get him into trouble. I often wish he was more assertive… maybe you could talk to him about that, he likes you."

"I like him too," Bishamonten replied, honestly and smiling a bit. "He's a wonderful person. I'm glad to have met him."

"Yes."

Silence then, as he pondered saying, "I wish I could spend more time with him," and she pondered saying, "He likes you better than he liked Arthur." But neither gave voice to those thoughts, because the silence was taking on that almost epic quality that sexual tension often gives it.

Bishamonten took stock of this situation: he was alone with Shashi, the door was closed and the lights were low, and he was incredibly lonely and frustrated. And she was wearing a red dress, which made it okay to set the file down, move closer, and invade her personal space, right? Right.

"Shashi," he murmured, looking into her eyes, "you must be… very lonely without Taishakuten."

Which was true, despite Tenou and the stupid neighbors trying to be friendly. However, she rallied a short, "I'm not lonely," and he blinked in letdown surprise.

"Oh." He hesitated for a moment, then uttered a quiet, "Well, _I'm _rather lonely."

He really shouldn't have said that, and she really should have replied, "Keep being lonely because I'm leaving now." Barring that, he should have stepped back and she shouldn't have had a longing expression on her face.

But "shoulds" were going out the window, and they were starting to get closer. Shashi was a bit astounded to realize that no matter how strong her self-restraint usually was, it was weaker than a limp noodle now. As for Bishamonten, all thoughts of propriety and his lovely wife were gone to Toronto as well.

He knew how this would go, oh yes he did. They'd lean in hesitantly, kiss lightly, then throw their arms around each other for passionate liplock. And then clothes would start to come off, and he'd belatedly lock the door, and once she'd tackled him the floor would be an impromptu bed.

Yes, they'd get busy in Koumokuten's study, confess feelings in between yelling things like, "Harder!" and "Oh God!" and when it was over he'd simply take her home with him for another round. He'd end up calling Kisshouten and telling her, "Lotus, I'm divorcing you for Tenou's mother," and when she cried he'd hang up and hop back into bed for Round Three, or maybe even Four.

And right now, that was just fine and dandy with him.

_No sense denying it, _hormones sang. _Willing Shashi + locked door = explosive sex and happy Reginald. And happy Shashi too! She digs us, it's __so__ obvious._

As Bishamonten was succumbing to hormones, Shashi was fighting some off herself.

_No Reginald, _she yelled in her head, _don't drop your eyelids to half-mast! _He did have true bedroom eyes, dammit.

_No Reginald, don't part your lips ever so slightly! _That just made her want to touch them, either with fingers or her own lips.

_No Reginald, don't look at me like that! _…Actually, she could no longer think why that was a bad thing. Maybe… hmmm… well, there had to be _some _reason, she just couldn't remember it right now.

_Yes Reginald, _lust cheered, _lean in some more!_

Closer… closer… _closer…_

_SLAM!_

"Hey! Who's in my –? _Oh._"

Shashi whipped around as Bishamonten took a giant step back, and Koumokuten mentally cursed his timing. D'oh! Had he come in maybe a minute later, he might have seen some nudity.

"Oh hi guys," he smiled glibly, "the party's winding down now. Do either of you want to take some sandwiches home?"

_Okay Reginald, _he coaxed in his head, _this is where you say something witty like "I'd much rather take __Shashi__ home, and sandwich her between me and the mattress." C'mon buddy, you can do it!_

"No thank you," Bishamonten said coldly, as Shashi simultaneously snapped, "Absolutely not."

"Oka–"

"I was simply examining his face for ingrown hair," she hissed, having gone with the first flimsy lie she came up with.

Sense had returned, and she was almost appalled at herself. There were a couple very good reasons why boinkage was a bad idea, and she made a mental note to never be alone with Bishamonten again.

Koumokuten started to groan, "Yeah, _sure_," but Bishamonten quickly jumped in with, "That's right. Ingrown hair. Thank you Shashi," he said smoothly, giving her a nod, "you've been ever so helpful."

Then he gave Koumokuten a scathing glower. This glower said, without words, "If you push it, I will rip out your earrings, cut off your ponytail, and crush your phone under a cement mixer. Then I'll tell Aguni you killed your first wife, you sneaky little bugger who I just _know _wants to use this against me."

Koumokuten gulped at this glower, and pasted a gullible expression on his face. "Hey, that's great," he replied, stepping back to let them out of the room. "And I'm sure you guys just picked my study because it was there, huh?"

This last part was said with a tinge of sarcasm, then he continued with, "Don't do that again. That's my private workspace, okay?"

"Of course," Bishamonten hastened to assure him. "Do forgive me for intruding upon it. And Shashi, thank you again."

"No problem," she smiled, wanting to take to her heels, grab Tenou, and drive home so she could lecture herself in the mirror for almost doing something so dumb.

Alas, that stupid Primitive Female Brain was crossing its arms and pouting, "Xavier has to die, because we almost slept with Reginald again! Quick, follow him to his car and insist on going home with him. Tenou can drive, he can get home by himself."

She bitchslapped Primitive Female Brain, walked off as quickly as she could, rescued Tenou from Tamara, and left so fast Aguni cocked her head in confusion. What had happened? Something was obviously amiss, judging by Shashi's gritted teeth.

Tamara put her hands on her hips and whined, "I was telling Tenou about my History class presentation! And she dragged him away from me. Aguni, make her pay some…how… um… uh-oh."

Because Aguni had turned what Tamara called her "Wicked Stepmother" look on the teenager, and now imperiously told her, "Tamara, I am not your father and I do not think the world revolves around you. He left, deal with it. And you cheated on that presentation anyway, I know it even if your teacher and your father don't."

As Tamara turned pale, Bishamonten stared at the doorway where Shashi had exited stage right. He really, _really _wished Koumokuten hadn't come in, and had decided that things would be different the next time he saw her.

_Now I know she wants me too, _he thought as he started his car, _and while obviously Xavier's interference put a damper on things, all I have to do is tell her, "I still love you."_

Yes, denial had been worked through by this point, and he was a little stunned to realize that Kisshouten's absence had made it incredibly easy to rationalize her away and put her out of his mind. But hey, she'd left him! It was her own fault, he thought virtuously, that he'd had the opportunity to realize that he wanted Shashi again. If she was here things would be different, but nope… she was in another country, so he could pursue Shashi.

Of course he still loved Kisshouten, but maybe it was time to really explore the idea of having Shashi instead. Maybe a… a trial affair! Yes, that made perfect sense, he told himself as he parked his car in his giant garage. He could see which one he loved more, and who knew, maybe Kisshouten would come out on top anyway.

This was appalling, morally objectionable, and completely unfair to Kisshouten, but alas, Bishamonten was a rather selfish man to begin with. And he was, not to put too fine a point on it, sexually frustrated in the worst way.

He strolled into his house and wandered into the dark living room, wondering how best to approach the doctor again. Should he call her and say, "I had a wonderful time at that party, and I think we should pick up where we left off"? Or should he show up at her door with –

And he suddenly jumped as the lights came on, revealing Kisshouten. She stood up, smiling, and then held out a hand and greeted, "Hello, Reginald. I've missed you so much."

.

.

(AN: Cliffhanger! Sorry. Oh Kisshouten… I adore you and think you're wonderful, but you have awful timing.

Sorry for the sex talk. But oh well, we didn't see what Shashi and Aguni actually said in that little gossipfest.

And oh man, Bishamonten is a selfish lowdown snake, to think a "trial affair" is an okay thing. But let's be honest here: the guy is a villain in the manga, so I can't make him all nice. I've already toyed with his character enough, and face it, it was heading in this direction all along.

On a completely different note, I've only recently realized how awesome Kuyou is [thanks, ryuusama's disciple, for bringing her to my attention]. Defying Taishakuten for 300 years, somehow escaping the Water Jail and Zenmi while blind, and calmly awaiting death by Yasha, all to keep a promise to the man she loved but could never have… Kuyou's almost a badass.

Too bad Bish killed her. Well, she lives here and had the best "I'm quitting" speech one could ask for.

So I must warn you that the next chapter moves into "serious" territory. However, it does also involve yummy winter drinks and an awful mental image… and more sexual themes, oh dear.)


	15. Warm Cider

_In which Tenou drops a bombshell_

.

.

"…Kisshouten?" Bishamonten breathed, stunned and pale-faced. "I thought you were still in Toronto."

That was all he could think of to say, too shocked and unsure what to feel to think of anything else. This had been completely out of the blue; she hadn't called or even mentioned this when they'd last talked, which had been two days ago.

"I had to return early," she told him warmly, taking confident steps towards him. "I'm sorry for not telling you I was cutting my trip short, but Reginald, I couldn't be apart from you any longer. I'm so glad to see you, honey."

He was so conflicted he almost wanted to cry. On the one hand: his beloved lotus was back! She'd decided that she never wanted to leave him again, and he'd missed her so very much. He wanted to pick her up bridal-style and adjourn to the bedroom for some tender adult activities sprinkled with phrases like, "I adore you, stay with me until the end of time."

On the other hand: he'd been all set to go after Shashi again. He wanted to drive to her house, confess, "I love you, and I want us to forget the past and make a better future," and adjourn to the bedroom for some tender adult activities sprinkled with phrases like, "I've dreamed of you with me for years, and I'm never letting you go again."

Ten years of being a married man took over, and when she stopped in front of him he reached out to touch her face with a whispered, "I _missed _you. What made you decide to come back?"

"A number of things," she replied. "One was that I'd finished the great majority of my side with Jeanne, and she agreed to do the rest. But the most important was that it was time to return to you, because I'd lived apart from you for so long, given it a shot, and seen that what I really wanted was to be home.

"And that's because… Reginald," she told him softly, "I'm so proud of you. You let me live my own life for those five months, you let _me_ call _you_, you didn't constantly email me or hire someone to check up on me. That proves that you've changed, and without your smothering clinginess, what's left is the man I love, so much.

"Things will be different now, I know they will. You'll let me have things for myself, and we'll both work extra hard not to get into fights over silly issues that don't matter. What _does _matter is that we know our marriage is worth it, and that I love you, and you love me," she finished, framing his face with her hands.

He looked at her, and he knew one thing: to crush her unsuspecting heart, just when she'd worked through her issues and laid it out before him, would be so cruel it would deserve severe bad karma. To say, "Well see, lotus, I've just decided that I want another woman, and had been hoping to sleep with her soon," would probably earn him a special place in Hell, one with demons beating him with flaming whips and yelling, "BAD HUSBAND!"

"I _do _love you," he told her honestly, choked up for a number of reasons. "You know I do."

And one of those reasons wasn't that he was so glad she was back. No… that reason was that he had just decided that he would choose his wife and let Shashi go, let this obsession rest. A good half of him screamed and protested, beating its fists against the floor in a tantrum, but too bad!

Why? There was a hefty amount of fear involved in that decision, fear that Kisshouten would hit the roof, hate him, splash his near-adulterous choice to the far corners of the media. There was also that reluctance to be the one to hurt her, the woman he'd spent ten years protecting.

He could tell this wouldn't be easy. He could tell he would still _want _Shashi, in the worst way. He knew, but refused to admit, that he would resent his wife, but surely, _surely _he could work through it.

"Oh, Reginald," Kisshouten whispered, with happy tears slipping down her cheeks, "it's so good to be back." She leaned up to kiss him, and he leaned down to kiss her, and that was just what they did.

And he couldn't stop a sense of being cheated from stealing over him as they kissed. It was tender yes, and full of emotion (real for her, slightly forced for him), but he felt no magnetic pull like he'd felt less than an hour ago in Koumokuten's study. No sense of inevitable attraction, no near-giddy joy that yes, finally, he'd been about to kiss Shashi again.

But that didn't matter anymore, he insisted to himself as he clung to his wife and she clung to him. He would just continue with the "ingrown hair" lie, and judging by the way Shashi had left so quickly, she would never bring it up either. And if Koumokuten breathed a word – no, a _syllable_ – about it to Kisshouten or anyone else, Bishamonten would deny it at the top of his lungs.

And who would everyone believe? The sneaky guy who'd once been convinced Souma was hitting on Varuna, or the upstanding and super-powerful guy who would make damn sure to parade around how relieved he was that his adored wife was back? Obviously, if it was his word against Koumokuten's everyone would side with him, he assured himself.

When they finally drew apart, he suddenly noticed the noises of movement and soft burbling from behind him. He turned to see Puffball's cage sitting in its old place, the guinea pig running around and cuter than ever.

"He's happy to see you too," Kisshouten grinned, and he felt himself smile as well. "He missed you, I could tell."

"And I missed _you_, little one," Bishamonten told his pet, crossing over to the cage. "Were you good for your mommy on the plane ride? You didn't get motion sickness, if those books were correct that your kind can't."

Puffball popcorned and squeaked, exuberantly happy now that he was back with Daddy. Oh boy, Daddy was the one who gave him all those orange slices! Mommy just gave him the heels, which were nice and all, but not nearly as juicy and yummy.

Bishamonten envied Puffball, because the guinea pig was so easily pleased. He himself was still a bit torn, despite his decision. Why couldn't he just be satisfied with what he had? Why did he insist on thinking about Shashi even as he'd kissed Kisshouten hello?

Best to drive her out of his mind, then. Best to focus on Kisshouten, and take her to bed, and blot out those traitorous thoughts with how good it would feel to be with his wife, in both senses of the word.

"Lotus," he told her after he'd petted Puffball and closed the cage, "let's go upstairs. Let me show you how much I've missed you."

They did, and for much of it he was able to think only of Kisshouten. It had been far too long, and it did feel good, very good. He actually pleased her first, and that was also fine and dandy, and when they really got it on he thought it was working, this focus on her.

But to get him all the way there… he thought of Shashi.

.

Next Monday found him back at work, having shared the news of his wife's return with anybody who was anybody. He'd even told Hanranya, and when he encountered Vahyu in the hall he told him too, although partially that was to make the gaylord back off.

That afternoon, in a meeting with Zouchouten and Karura, he made sure to say, "I'm sorry I'm so distracted. Ellen, if you didn't already know, Kisshouten's come back to me."

"You know, Reginald," Zouchouten said somewhat awkwardly, "I can tell you're not as happy about that as you would have been five months –"

"I am _very_ happy," Bishamonten snarled, his angry tone an ironic touch to his declaration of happiness. "Don't you presume to know how I think! I'm just having a hard time here in this office, and I want to get back to my beloved wife."

Zouchouten didn't push it, but a hasty meeting had been called between him and Koumokuten for right after this one. When he got there, they decided that, as their friend seemed a bit conflicted and had clearly been about to kiss Shashi in the study, that gave them the green light to go ahead with Reconciliation Retreat (or Love Motel, whichever).

"I feel confident," Koumokuten intoned, "that this is just a temporary setback. With proper prodding, he'll realize he wants Shashi instead."

"I still feel rather guilty," Zouchouten sighed, "but I think, if we add a layer of working on Kisshouten too, everything will turn out all right. And speaking of things being all right, have I told you that Ellen's favorite finch is doing better from when he broke his wing?"

As Koumokuten was groaning that he didn't care about a fucking finch, and Zouchouten was glaring at and lecturing him, Bishamonten was telling Kujaku thanks for the poem. "My Love Hast Come To Me Again" was, for once, a _serious _poem, which the secretary had written in honor of his pal's return to Zenmi.

"Read it aloud to her," he suggested, passing Bishamonten the sheet it was printed on. "Heck, you don't have to tell her I wrote it! But you have to admit I did a good job of using your speech patterns."

He had. Bishamonten had been almost spooked, actually. Oh, that Kujaku… he was so goofy so often one forgot what a sharp tack he really was.

"Sir," Yasha said warmly, "I'm so glad it all worked out. I think she should paint an 'affirmation of your love' picture, and you can hang it in your office so everyone can see it. Right Victor?"

"James, I'm surprised to hear _you _suggest that," Bishamonten said rather faintly. Heck, Yasha's middle name was practically "stoic".

"Every once in a while," Yasha replied, sounding annoyed, "I can be romantic too."

"Boy, that's so true!" Kujaku said brightly. "I remember this one time, maybe about two years ago, he ordered like a boatload of –"

Bishamonten didn't want to hear what Yasha had done for Christine, and snapped, "Fascinating, yes. And no, Kisshouten's working on a picture of a woman by herself. It's a Japanese-style composition, the subject's wearing a kimono with the geisha hair. I've seen the preliminary sketches, it should be quite good."

And suddenly, he remembered that the woman in the drawing had honest-to-God resembled Shashi, her face the same structure and her bangs the same. It was no doubt unconscious on Kisshouten's part or a pure coincidence, but he suddenly wished he hadn't brought it up and vowed not to think of her.

A brief, very detailed vision of a nude Shashi artfully draped in cloth and grinning at him with "Come hither" eyes almost blinded him for a moment, his brain being a fickle and contrary thing.

…_I said I wouldn't think about it! I will instead think of… of… of Xavier and Aaron in bed! _

Yes, that worked wonders, and no one had noticed his physical reaction to naked Shashi. Just for good measure, he thought of Kujaku joining in too. Okay, he was all right now, and probably would be for the rest of the day. And possibly night, yuck.

Things like that kept popping up, incessantly. Kisshouten made caramel rolls for breakfast the next day, and he thought of the caramel sauce. Taishakuten mentioned "driving our enemies out into the cold and the ice of a fickle market", and he thought of the ice cubes. Karura wore red lipstick one day, and he thought of how it looked so much better on Shashi… et cetera, et cetera.

And when he met up with Tenou for another coffee date after work that Friday, he thought of how she'd put a bit of whipped cream in hers, each time. But he shook it off (he was getting quite good at doing that), and ordered cider for both of them.

It was _wonderful _cider. Warm but not scalding hot like you often got when you didn't make it yourself, sweet and tangy, hints of cinnamon and an almost smoky taste. That was one nice thing about fall and winter: everything might be dormant and freezing cold, but you could have warm cider.

"So, Tenou," Bishamonten smiled, as they sat in a table by the corner, "what have you been up to this past week?"

"Oh, doing a lot of schoolwork," the young man replied seriously. "I have to keep my grades up for all the colleges I applied to. It's hard waiting to hear back, but I'm pretty confident I'll get into most if not all. So then I'll just have to choose which one!"

"Will you go out of state?" Bishamonten asked, secretly hoping he'd stay here in Zenmi. Zenmi had a lot of great colleges and universities, and he would miss Tenou if he left, he really would.

"Maybe, maybe not. Aaron pointed out two weeks ago that Zenmi University has a great music program, and I did apply there. But, listen, Reginald," Tenou grinned, "I think his mind wasn't on that."

Bishamonten could believe it, and could accurately guess what it had been on. But he politely asked, "Why do you think that?"

"He kept talking about Ellen," Tenou sighed indulgently. "By now I know every single one of her good points, which she has a lot of. I mean, it's sweet, but finally I had to say, 'Aaron, go on home to her.' Then he beamed and practically galloped out to his car after thanking me and saying, 'Tenou, you're almost as nice as Ellen'."

Bishamonten nodded solemnly and replied, "Aaron is very much in love with her, and I expect a proposal any day now. But anyway Tenou, I'm sorry you had to sit through all that mooning while you were trying to talk to him."

"Oh, it's okay, really," Tenou assured him, cheerful and polite as always. "I just felt bad that he thought he had to spend time with me instead of her. I know he likes me, and I like him a lot too, but clearly he'd rather be with Ellen on the weekends. It's almost cute, if you can call someone like him 'cute'."

Bishamonten thought that was stretching it; he would have used the term "sickeningly sappy". His nickname of "lotus" for his wife? Why, that was just romantic. Koumokuten's nicknames of "fire goddess", "Amazon babe", "Pele", "fire of my heart", and especially "fire muffin" for Aguni? Those were just _dumb._

"I'm glad to see he has somebody he loves like that," Tenou said seriously. "Everyone should have love. I mean, my mom and my dad… they were in like movie-love."

"Really?" Bishamonten asked, stomping down that rebellious desire to strangle a faceless man hugging Shashi. He'd almost been hoping, he was horrified to realize, that she had gotten knocked up from a one-night stand she'd slept with to forget him. What an awful thing to think, and he knew that very well.

Unaware of all that, Tenou smiled, "My mother said my father was so in love with her, he would have walked off a ledge if she'd asked him to."

Bishamonten smiled back and replied, "That's wonderful. What was his name?"

"Richard. Richard Benson," Tenou answered, putting down his cider. "She said he died before I was born. She lost all his pictures, but she told me stories for hours. And," he grinned proudly, "she passed his class ring on to me when I was ten."

Bishamonten froze, and then managed a stunned, "Class ring. That's… an interesting keepsake." Keeping his voice as casual as he could, he asked, "What color is the stone?"

To his surprise, Tenou pulled the chain out from under his shirt and unhooked it. He took off a thick alma mater band and held it up, smiling some more, then generously said, "Here. You can see it."

He passed the ring into Bishamonten's shaking hand, and laughed, "She always said the green matched my eyes."

_Green onyx…_

Bishamonten examined it carefully. There could be no doubt: Saint Lazarus College, 1991, RCB. The ring he'd been so proud to earn, the very same piece of jewelry he'd given Shashi that December night in 1994, a mere eight days before she'd left looked up at Tenou and asked harshly, "You're sure this is your father's? She _promised_ you that?"

Now Tenou looked almost afraid. "Promised?" he squeaked, wondering what the heck was going on. "No, she just said it was. Why would she lie to me?"

_Why would she lie to me?_

She had, there was too much evidence to deny it. He'd been an imbecile, believing Shashi's explanations and never caring to look deeper, and it had been there all along, staring him in the face like a mirror image with a different hairstyle and eyes.

"Hey… are you okay?" Tenou asked softly, concerned and confused.

Bishamonten looked at his son, tears starting in his own eyes… and thrust the ring back into his hand with a muttered, "It's beautiful. I have to go now." He shoved his chair violently back, grabbing his coat as Tenou stared, wondering about this sudden departure.

"Why? Is something wrong?" he asked, sounding almost panicked.

_Yes. No. Dammit, it's all so perfectly clear, and I knew she was hiding something, but I never thought…_

Bishamonten forced himself to smile normally and lie, "I'm sorry to run off on you like this, but I've just recalled that my mother-in-law's birthday is today. I need to order her flowers or she'll," he chuckled half-heartedly, "get on my back about it."

"Okay," the teenager smiled, looking relieved. Bishamonten didn't know it, but he thought he'd unknowingly said or done something to set the man off. Poor, naïve, trusting Tenou… he hadn't gotten that from his mother.

_He got it from me. She fooled me completely._

Tenou stuck the ring back on the chain and continued, "I'll see you later, okay? Oh, don't forget your cider." He passed it to Bishamonten with an innocent smile on his face, totally unaware of how the world had changed, and warmly said, "Have a nice day, Reginald."

"You too, Tenou." Bishamonten accepted the cider, his smiling business mask barely in place as he went on, "Tell your mother I said hello."

Tenou picked up his jacket, put his arms through it, and grabbed his own half-drunk cider with a cheery, "I will. Bye!" he called as Bishamonten headed to the door.

Bishamonten turned back, nodded, waved, smiled, started his car… and drove so fast he was surprised no one pulled him over. As he zoomed past a semi on the right, he thought, _My __son__. Mine! All along, and she __lied__ to me! Was she ever going to let me know? God, why didn't she tell me eighteen years ago? _

_And she set him up, and she was just going to let me pal around with him, while Kisshouten is barren and the adoption fell through and she knew all that! She knew I always wanted a child! Taishakuten said we were trying to adopt, and she just smiled and murmured, "Good for you."_

_And oh God… I wanted her again. I considered committing adultery with that lying bitch, while my wife worked so hard to fix our marriage. I imagined I was with her when I was making love with Kisshouten!_

"Shit!" he bellowed at the windshield in uncanny imitation of Shashi. "Just… fucking… argh!"

He punched the radio on to distract himself, and the NPR guy was saying, "Here to talk about the far-flung effects of single motherhood, Dr. Clarissa –"

"Fuck it!" he snarled, punching another button. He never listened to music in the car, but this time, he'd make an exception. It would distract him from the anger and the guilt too, that he hadn't tried harder to find her all those years ago. If he had, this situation wouldn't have come about.

"Nothing compares, no worries or cares, regrets and mistakes they're memories made," Adele lamented, and he swore a blue streak and downright smacked the "power" button.

By the time he rolled up to the gatehouse of the "Castle North Gated Community", he had cursed his own stupidity, the universe, Shashi, and each and every driver who was too slow for him, made the slightest mistake, or just had an ugly car. And Adele, she'd been a major target too.

The gatekeeper, whose name was Todd, was a nice man. He knew everybody's friends and relatives, asked how the residents were doing, and was always ready with a good-natured joke. But when he saw Bishamonten now, he could tell a joke might be an incredibly bad move to make. The business executive was clenching the steering wheel like it was someone's neck, his teeth were bared in aggression, and his expression reminded Todd of an angry wolverine.

"Mr. Bishamonten," he asked in kind concern, "is everything okay? You look –"

"I am perfectly fine, Todd," Bishamonten snarled, and rolled his window up with a violent press of a button. The guard blinked in surprise but let him go through, wondering what was up. Hadn't the man's wife just come back? Shouldn't he be delirious with joy?

Bishamonten drove way too fast to get to his garage, and it was incredibly lucky that no distracted, careless children were playing outside right then. He probably would have run them right over and cursed them too for being in his way, right now. He parked violently, a bad parking job if there ever was one, but he didn't care, both cars easily fit in.

Kisshouten was home, her car was here, and he found himself afraid to encounter his wife. What did a man say to the woman he'd married, when he'd just found out that hey, guess what, I'm a dad and you're not a mom?

He was astounded to realize that his feet were carrying him up the back walk, up the back steps, and into the house without him consciously telling them to do that. He put his briefcase down with a slam, hung his coat up with jerky motions, and walked into the kitchen while trying to resist.

Kisshouten was there, working on what looked like stew, a nice warm meal for this cold time of year, as his mind babbled so he wouldn't have to think of anything more important. Yes, distraction! Distraction was a wonderful thing, and if he could just focus on stew…

_Stop it! _he ordered his stupid thoughts. This was too big to just shove under the bed of denial, and somehow, one way or another, it had to be addressed.

"Reginald," Kisshouten smiled as she turned, "you seemed to be a little…" She caught sight of his face then, and nervously said, "Honey, you look terrible! What happened?"

So this was it, the moment of truth, when he acknowledged to another person what he'd learned. When everything fell apart, like a house of cards meticulously built with the creator laboring under the mistaken impression that the foundations were solid. He should have _known _Shashi's answer that Tenou wasn't his was too glib, should have insisted on her telling him who his dad was.

She undoubtedly would have lied again, but he might have been able to examine whatever story she'd come up with and pick it apart. God, Tenou's birthday was almost exactly nine months from when she'd left him! That alone should have been a giant red flag. And it had been at first, but she'd convinced him it was just a red herring!

So he moved over to right in front of his wife, and in response to her question he thought, _I'm a father. I've been a father for eighteen years, and I never knew. _

_And when I suspected the truth, when I first saw my son, she lied to my face and she lied to his too! I don't know why, I don't know what she was thinking, and I don't know how she could do it, but Shashi and I had a child and you've met him, Kisshouten!_

_You talked about still lifes, and he asked how you were doing, and was sad for me when you left and happy for me when you came back. So I guess in some twisted way you're his stepmother, and we're all just tangled in the web Shashi spun for reasons I can't comprehend._

He looked into Kisshouten's eyes… and he lied too: "My assistant had a breakdown this afternoon. He started crying in a conference with a foreign CEO in the room. It's been a difficult day," he sighed wearily.

"Poor James," she said in pity, completely unsuspecting. "Did something happen with Victor?"

"I have no idea what set him off," Bishamonten replied. "Maybe it _was _the paperclip sculptures or some other asinine hobby in a place of business, I don't know."

She gave him an odd look, but he didn't notice. He was too busy thinking, _Poor __James__? Poor __Reginald__! I'm caught up in a lie I have no choice but to build on, because if I tell you the truth you'll crumble._

_Is that really why? _that goddamned internal voice whispered. _Or is it because you just don't want to deal with it? Is it because you've been knocked off your feet and you don't want to be on the ground forever, so you're pretending it's all okay? Is it because you're so scared of what might happen, that you have to face the fact that she __lied__ and you swallowed it hook, line, and sinker?_

_You're making it worse. You're just as bad as she is if you tell this whopper to Kisshouten and never reveal the truth. Isn't she the one you chose, doesn't she deserve to know this? She'll be on your side!_

He argued back, _That's why I'm doing it! So she won't fall apart. Not for me!_

It was a falsehood, but screw it. He'd made up his mind, and that was how it was gonna be. He would pretend he didn't know, and he'd ease away from Tenou so it wouldn't be so hard. And surely Tenou would blow a fuse if he ever found out, so best to spare him that, Bishamonten urged himself.

_But what if he does find out? What will you do then? _

"Reginald, you seem incredibly upset. Did James yell at _you?_" Kisshouten asked in concern. "I know you like him, and surely he'll calm down."

"No," he replied shortly. "No, I sent him home early and he thanked me. I don't think you should call him for a while, he'll need some time to cool down. Oh, and don't ask Victor about it either," he went on, covering all possible tracks.

"All right. I can see it's affecting you, so would you like to talk about it?" she asked kindly.

"Not right now. But maybe tomorrow," he told her, relieved at this reprieve. It would give him time to come up with a good story, and most importantly to stop being so angry about Shashi.

"All right," Kisshouten agreed, then gave him a peck on the lips and suggested, "Why don't you go relax? Dinner should be ready in about an hour, you can –"

"I'd rather help you," he decided. That would be a soothing thing, everyday actions as a comfort against this shock. He could slip into the routine of food preparation and talk to his lovely wife, the woman who had never lied to him or hidden such a life-changing event from him.

And that was exactly what he did.

.

As Bishamonten was calling Adele nasty names, Shashi was stepping into her living room with a sigh. Oh, every time Tenou did something with Bishamonten, a part of her got nervous.

_There's no reason to be nervous, _she soothed herself as she crossed to the windows. _He believed my story, he believed it all, poor boy. He won't figure it out, and if Reginald hasn't by now he never will._

_Nope, Tenou thinks his dad is Richard. I probably deserve an Academy Award for that evening, honestly._

"Richard Chad Benson"… RCB, which of course had stood for "Reginald Clarence Bishamonten" on the ring. She'd wished she'd had the initials filed off once she saw him again, but it had been far too late then. Tenou had had the ring for seven years already, and would have wondered what was up.

She had briefly considered stealing it and maybe dropping it down a storm drain, but Tenou would be very upset. And as he even slept with that chain on, how would she even get it? He'd hid it under his fencing uniform so stealing it from his regular clothes had been out, and if she'd picked his lock while he was taking a shower he would have been both embarrassed and suspicious.

She could see that scenario now:

"Mother!" he would yell, flattening himself against the far wall of the shower even though it was frosted glass on the door. "What are you doing in here?"

"I'm just, um, I'm just making sure you have enough Windex for the mirror," she'd say brightly, catching sight of the chain on the countertop. "Honey, don't be shy, I changed your diapers, I know what –"

"MOTHER! You're not… this isn't one of those incest things, is it?" he'd screech, horrified by the idea. "Like a porn flick where the mom says something like, 'Son, I've been lonely without your father, and I see you've inherited his…' you know! Mother, YUCK!"

"Of course I'm not trying to seduce you," she would snarl, equally horrified. But she'd be inching closer to the chain, which would unfortunately be taking her nearer to the shower too.

He'd yell, "Then why are you getting closer? Mother, that's sick, I don't think of you that way! If you're honestly here for the Windex, go back outside and you can check later! If you take one more step, I'm screaming and calling Aunt Kahra for protection, along with the police!"

She'd have no choice but to go back out, and insist she'd just been so concerned that his mirror wasn't being properly cleaned that she'd forgotten how this might look. And since she always gave him privacy, that would have been an exceptionally flimsy excuse. Not to mention that when he saw his paternal talisman was missing he'd have known who'd taken it.

So no, the ring was a fact of life. She'd just had to work around it when she concocted her story. And everyone, from Kumaraten to Tenou to probably the neighbors and Zouchouten, had fallen for it.

Kahra had been suspicious when she'd first met her nephew, but after the initial question of "Who's his father?" and Shashi's curt answer of "Never you mind," the darker sister had never mentioned it again. Perhaps she did suspect the truth, but she never said anything about it. She tended to be pretty secretive about many things.

Shashi was indescribably thankful that she'd been estranged from Kahra when she'd left Bishamonten, and only reconciled with her when Tenou was six. If they'd been closer then, the Richard lie would have been impossible. It was flimsy as it was, and she now wished she'd told Tenou he was the result of a drunken one-night stand.

But she hadn't wanted her son to look at her with disappointment in his eyes, and there was the ring already, plus she'd already told him she'd loved his father. More than anything else, she wished she hadn't given the ring to him when he was ten. But he'd been crying! He'd been getting teased that he didn't even know who his dad was, and she'd acted on impulse.

"Tenou honey," she'd crooned, patting his head, "I told you, I'll tell you when you turn eighteen. But do you know what? I have something to give you, okay? It was your father's, and he gave it to me as a gift."

"Really?" he'd asked, wiping his eyes. "What is it?"

"Wait right there," she had told him, and impulsively added, "Don't go away."

As he'd wondered where she expected him to go, she'd gone up to her room and opened the tiny compartment in her jewelry box that contained the green onyx ring. She'd often considered selling it, but never could make herself do so. So now, she'd thought a bit angrily, it would be put to good use.

How dare those stupid brats make fun of her son? Tons of children were born out of wedlock, or even worse had a parent who'd landed in jail or prison, or were estranged from their father because he'd abused their mother. This wasn't the fucking '50s, she'd snarled in her head as she carried the ring back downstairs.

"Sweetheart," she'd smiled as she hid it behind her back, "your dad would have stormed in and put the fear of God into those kids, and he'd want you to have this. Tenou… this is your dad's class ring."

He'd stared at it, then grinned, "Cool. Is it emerald?"

"_It's not emerald, it's green onyx. A beautiful stone, but harder and not as rare. It's often mistaken by the naked eye for emerald or jade, though…"_

"Oh no honey," she'd laughed, "it's called green onyx. Isn't it lovely? Here, you can take it. We can put it on a chain and you can wear it whenever you want. All the time, if that's what you decide to do."

"It's so pretty," he'd smiled, elementary angst gone. "Hey… there are letters on it!"

He'd squinted at them and read aloud, "RCB. And on the other side, 1991. What does 'RCB' stand for, Mother?"

"I can't tell you yet," she'd sighed in slight exasperation. "When you're eighteen, remember? Anyway honey, it matches your eyes, doesn't it?"

That had been that. She'd begun to dig herself her own grave the moment she'd told him she'd reveal everything when he was of age, the day he'd asked, as a curious, adorable one-year-old, "Who Daddy? Where Daddy?" And it had been so raw then, still so painful, that all she'd been able to do was sigh, "I'll tell you when you're older."

She'd dug deeper when he'd wondered, "My friend Timmy's parents got a divorce and hate each other now. Did you get a divorce, Mommy?" at age four. She'd been so taken aback that she hadn't thought to lie, just blurted, "No. I loved your daddy, honey. And we were never married."

She'd been knee-deep in the ground and going further when she'd walked into that suite and seen the man she thought she'd never see again, and dug like a maniac when she'd decided she would act like Tenou wasn't his son. That she'd never mention why she'd left, and pretend she didn't want him anymore. That had been half of the vow, really.

And she'd piled the dirt over her head when she'd lied so expertly to her unsuspecting son, telling him his father was a man she'd made up to protect herself. She'd taken advantage of the fact that she'd never lied to him on such an important level before, and of his trusting nature. She'd cried the night of September 25th, but she'd known what she was doing.

And it was done, she sighed as she shut the curtains. The truth was deep in the ground, with a headstone that said "Do Not Disturb" and a barbed-wire fence around it, made up of her willingness to lie some more. Tenou would never know, she told herself, and neither would his father. It made her feel terrible, but damn it all, what else could she have done?

Because she'd seen that –

The sound of a key in the back door startled her out of her reverie, and she whipped around.

Tenou came in from the cold, his cheeks pink and a smile on his face, holding an almost-empty cup of cider, which had by now lost all of its warmth. And damn it all, he did look like Bishamonten so much. His eyes were a different shape and color and lacked the long lashes, his hair wasn't quite the same shade and worn in a much more normal style, but his build, his height, his cheekbones and mouth were the same.

Of course there were bits of his mother too; he had her slightly lighter skin and fine hair. His overall facial structure was Shashi's, not quite as defined in the jaw as his dad: softer looking, honestly. His voice sounded a lot like _her_ father's, and those green eyes were from Miranda Lipschnitzski, Kahra had them too.

As she thought all that, he greeted, "Hi! How was work?"

"Work was average," she told him in reply. "It was the man handing out religious pamphlets on the sidewalk that was a problem. He didn't set foot on clinic property so we couldn't demand he leave, so he got to harass people coming in."

"That sucks," Tenou sighed. "And what makes me roll my eyes is that you're not even an abortion clinic! I mean, yeah you do a lot of referrals, but it doesn't actually happen there. Not to mention, if… well, you know my thoughts on that issue," he sighed again, setting his cider down and taking his jacket off.

"Yes, honey, I do. We've certainly talked about it," she agreed. Oh, she was so glad he was progressive, because if she'd unwittingly raised a fundie she might need to turn to the bottle.

"So did he try to talk to you?" he asked as he hung his coat up. "At least he didn't wave a crucifix and pictures of fetuses in your face like that one time, I would hope."

"No, he didn't do that, he was just babbling on about how God wants women to be chaste or husband-obeying brood mares," she muttered in disgust. "There is no middle ground to some people. You know, honey, to change the subject, is Reginald happy that his wife came back?"

Shashi herself was, while not _happy _about that, certainly unsurprised. She'd known all along that Kisshouten would be back. She'd known all along that Bishamonten loved her very much, and that things would return to the way they'd been before the artist had left. It was a fact: Bishamonten was a married man, and he adored his lotus.

"Yeah, he is," their son assured her. "And we're going out next Sunday for coffee too, or maybe more cider. But you know, Mother, it was the funniest thing: he just got up and left in the middle of it, he said he had to do an errand. I'm thinking now," he said solemnly, "that he might have been telling me a white lie. I mean, one second we were looking at my dad's class ring, the next he suddenly had to go. It was weird, honestly."

Shashi gasped and managed an appalled, "You showed him the ring. Tenou honey, please tell me you didn't," she pleaded, desperately hoping that he was joking.

Tenou didn't see a problem with this, and gave her a strange look as he answered, "Yes, he –"

Memories returned, and his brow furrowed in thought as she cringed. He was smart; he'd asked why there were no pictures of his "father". He'd been suspicious when he'd learned Bishamonten had dated Shashi. He'd wanted to find "Richard's" family.

Shashi waited, clenching a death grip onto the chair she was standing next to, as Tenou suddenly paled, his eyes going wide and a stunned look on his face. Clearly he'd just figured it out, and all she could do was stand frozen as he met her gaze.

"It was his," he breathed, "wasn't it."

It had not been a question, and she gave no verbal answer. But her silence told the tale well enough, and his eyes filled with tears as he whispered, "You told me Richard was my father. Was there ever a Richard at all?"

"No," she whispered back, so huskily it was barely a whisper. "No, Tenou. And –"

Tenou, confused and betrayed and suddenly so angry he was shaking, snarled, "Why did you lie to me? How could you two just pretend I wasn't his, and –?"

"He didn't know, Tenou! And I lied to you because… because…" She swiped away a tear, unable to continue with everything falling apart, after so much effort.

"You constructed a fabrication and were just going to let it perpetuate?" he asked, hands clenched into fists. "He's my _father!_ You didn't even have the decency to tell him when he first met me! He looked stunned, and you must have lied to him too!"

"I lied to him because I had to!" she yelled. "He's married, and if his son showed up suddenly think what that would do to his wife."

"I have the distinct sense," Tenou snapped, "that you're not telling me the entire truth. Mother, I _know _there's something else. You're his friend, you _knew_ he wanted a child!"

Shashi was trapped. He was right, of course he was right. He was so right it nearly killed her. Intelligence: a gift and a curse, and a dumb child wouldn't have picked up on that. No, she'd been lucky to fool him once, and she wouldn't be able to fool him again, no chance whatsoever.

"Tenou…" she managed, "honey…"

"Tell me." He took a deep breath, then yelled, "Tell me! I deserve some truth after all your lies."

"Yes. You do," she admitted hollowly.

With tears running down her cheeks, Shashi crossed to her son and hugged him tightly, then told him, "Tenou… I didn't tell him because he _deserves _his marriage and his wife. He doesn't deserve to have it all blown to hell."

"Why?" Tenou was crying too as he pointed out, "You never cared that I deserved to know the truth."

She buried her face in her son's neck, and finally… "Because I love him," she managed, barely audible. "I wanted him to be happy. That's the reason. If I'd never seen him again I would have told you everything on your birthday, but…"

As she trailed off, he pulled back and asked, "If you love him, why did you run away? Why'd you leave and have me and let him think you were angry at him?"

"I was stupid," she sighed, sounding like she was admitting to genocide. "I saw him with another woman, and I lost it. I packed my bags and left that very afternoon, and honey, I wanted to throw myself off a bridge."

She laughed, a hoarse bark of a sound, and then continued, "He tried to find me, you know. He actually tracked me to the hotel I was at, and got the wrong room. I came down the hall, saw that hair, and ran into the women's restroom and hid for an entire hour. The desk told me later that day that he'd left his number and a plea to call him, which I didn't."

She was practically sobbing now as she told her son, "And when I saw him in that suite… God, he looked like he'd seen a ghost. And I was so terrified that he'd yell at me in front of everyone."

Tenou stood completely still, letting his mother finally verbalize what she'd bottled up for so long. Silent, stunned, too much new information to sort through was coming at him all at once, and a tiny, detached part of his brain muttered that he would probably be up all night, and school tomorrow would _suck._

"But he didn't yell at me," Shashi went on. "And he was polite and charming, and I saw that he was married, and I couldn't ruin that for him.

"When I found out I was pregnant," she continued softly, "I was so scared. I thought about ending you a couple of times, but I couldn't. At first I was confused, because I was so angry at him, but I realized that I still loved him too. So I had you," she took a deep, shuddering breath, "to keep a part of him with me."

Tenou collapsed into a chair and mumbled, "He ran, Mother. He looked at that ring and got angry. He handed it back to me and walked off. He doesn't want me."

Shashi collapsed into a different chair and weakly protested, "No. I think he does. He always wanted a child, but he must be so angry at me right now…" She buried her head in her hands and sniffled, "Shit."

Tenou stopped himself from screaming, but couldn't stop himself from gritting out, "This is _your _fault. All of it. You manipulated us both, and I don't think he'll ever seek me out again."

With that, Bishamonten's son stood up and finished with, "Mother… I hate you."

And he turned and walked up the stairs. He hadn't yelled it and stomped off in adolescent rage, a little boy throwing a tantrum. Instead he'd said it quietly, tears running down his cheeks, a young man whose life was tearing itself apart.

.

.

(AN: Now of course I don't _really_ believe Tenou is secretly Bishamonten's in the manga, there's no way. [Although, on a design note, where _did _that red hair come from? Isn't red hair recessive?] But it made a nice little excuse to throw Bishie and Shashi together here. Yeah, that was the inspiration for this fic besides "Someone Like You", sue me.

…Actually, that would be rather hilarious, and it's not like Taishakuten could neglect Tenou _more_,honestly. And hey, if he's into Lord Ashura Shashi's all alone! Not that she _needs _anyone, and Tenou's conception probably would have been the result of too much alcohol or something, but huh.

And Koumokuten and Zouchouten clearly think that Tenou isn't Taishakuten's at all. Maybe CLAMP had an alternate idea on his paternity that they later tossed, as they seem to have a habit of doing.

I'll bet a lot of you suspected this, huh? There were clues. Shashi was glad Bishamonten hadn't insisted on "a needless paternity test", which of course meant that he was the only candidate, but it sure sounded like he couldn't be the dad, huh? Hopefully, anyway.

Zouchouten pretty obviously suspected all along. And boy, wasn't that convenient how all Richard's pictures were lost? And you'll notice that that scene only went into Tenou's thoughts. Ah, subterfuge… this is the first time I've tried to mislead people with my writing, although I have to admit it was really obvious if you thought Daddy Bishie was possible. Dan Brown I am not, sadly.

Anyway, this chapter was definitely the most serious, but the next one tries to match up. I know, I know, "Adele" is filed halfway under "Humor", but it's primarily a romance story, and as such, serious business has to happen.

So how does Bishamonten expect to hide this from everybody? And for God's sake… why does Koumokuten have a certain "Star Wars" ornament for his tree? See, there's stillhumor.)


	16. Tears

**Tears**

_In which matters come to a head for our hero_

.

.

Six days later, Bishamonten had succeeded in numbing most of the anger, guilt, sadness, confusion, and longing for a normal life. He hadn't succeeded in ignoring it, and he was incredibly irritable. He'd also told Kisshouten that on second thought, he didn't want to embarrass poor Yasha so they shouldn't talk about his supposed blowup, but let's have sex instead!

Even that didn't help. His mind had been so shaken that at first he couldn't perform, and then that stupid, stupid, _stupid_ Primitive Male Brain had thrown memories of Shashi into his mind's eye, and _then _it had worked.

That made him angry, and almost disgusted with himself. The woman had trampled on him with spiked heels labeled "Falsehoods", and he could still get off to her? _Had _to get off to her? Something was messed up here.

But it was the truth, and those thoughts kept rushing into his head, almost like a dam had broken and the breach was widening more and more. There was fury, and that vow to avoid her for the rest of his life, but there was also desire, and regret that they hadn't stayed together, and… confusion, everywhere.

So he found himself sitting down at his assigned seat for the morning briefing having had a bad night's sleep and a sex dream. Except this time, Tenou had popped up and shrieked, "Is that how I was conceived? Oh God, you're both pervs! Please tell me that's not passed down through genetics!"

Koumokuten wasn't here today because he was on a business trip, but he'd be back soon. It was now December, and the head of Marketing never spent a Christmas away from home, ever. Greed ran rampant at Christmastime, and Koumokuten was living in a material world, and he was a material… well, middle-aged man.

But Zouchouten was here, Karura in tow, and wow, those were really happy people, Bishamonten could tell the second they walked in. They were beaming and standing very close, and Zouchouten said proudly, "Reginald, James, we have an announcement to make."

Bishamonten cocked his head as Karura grinned and held up her left hand, a platinum solitaire diamond ring sparkling in the light. Yasha grinned too, mentally calculating the carats for fun.

"Aaron proposed last night," she said happily, taking Zouchouten's hand. "Of course I said 'yes' before he finished the question."

Six days ago, Bishamonten would have grinned in response, shaken their hands in congratulation, and asked, "When's the wedding?" Now, however, he wanted to yell at them for being so damned happy and googly-eyed when his life sucked. Everyone should feel as bad as he did!

He really felt like growling, "Aaron, make sure you insist that she tell you the truth about everything, and if she runs off to New York make sure you stop at nothing to track her down so she can't make a fool out of you. And Ellen, don't hide important things from him, and if he gets you pregnant have the decency to let him know before you flee to a different city."

Instead, he summoned a forced, "Wonderful. Will you and your sister be moving in with him, Ellen?"

"Yes," she replied, grinning some more as Zouchouten matched her expression. "Karyou's very excited, and I think Lola can tell something's new too. She wouldn't stop trying to lick my face, and she's usually so good about staying down."

Oh indeed, her life was fantastic, and there were birds singing and the sun shining, with a catchy soundtrack of Bette Midler's "Wind Beneath My Wings" in the background.

Bishamonten couldn't help but compare this to his own life: Shashi was a lying snake, Tenou was oblivious and out of his reach, and Kisshouten was completely unaware of the whole thing, and it was going to stay that way. There were vultures croaking and thunderstorms, with a depressing soundtrack of a Gregorian lament.

Right then Taishakuten came in to, glanced at the ring, and murmured, "I see you're making it legal. Do sit down now, you're blocking the way to my boss chair."

Zouchouten and Karura sat down, Karura shooting Taishakuten a glare that could have melted steel, and the meeting was on. Bishamonten fervently hoped, but wasn't holding his breath, that this would lead to less talk about how great Karura was. But it would probably just lead to talk of "Ellen wants an elegant wedding dress! She's so beautiful…"

.

It was now a Sunday, and Sundays were hard. They meant that Bishamonten wasn't occupied with work, although he certainly did a lot on his laptop, but there was no real structure to it. There was no one to distract him when his mind wandered off to a land of illegitimate sons and their mothers who pulled the wool over innocent Senior VP's eyes.

He watched Kisshouten snuggle Puffball with an almost detached eye. Poor woman, that would be the only child-figure she ever had. Even if she wanted to start another adoption process, he would convince her otherwise. How could he be "Daddy" to one child while another would just call him "Reginald"?

He had the distinct sense, however, that Tenou might very well have figured this out, and that was a terrifying thought. But he shied away from examining it, from wondering, "If so, what do I do?"

No, he convinced himself that he was overreacting. He _had _to be overreacting!

He observed his wife put their furry baby down and head into the library to read, or maybe do something with a Christmas gift for him, he had no idea. She was good about getting gifts early, better than he usually was, although this year he was on top of it.

He'd ordered her a giant boxed CD set of every single Andrew Lloyd Webber song written so far. Andrew Lord Webber in all honesty was about as close as she got to pop music, as she was a huge fan of classical, the older the better.

"So much of the new classical is deliberately discordant, written to show off the musician's talents but not be enjoyable for the average audience to listen to," she'd once sighed. "I mean, I think I know a lot about classical music, and even I dislike the new offerings as a whole. Truly, I might be better served by listening to epic, historical movie soundtracks, I honestly might."

But she loved ALW. Her favorite song of his was "The Phantom of the Opera", and while she had that one on her iPod already Bishamonten was sure she wouldn't say no to another, possibly better version.

For a while he puttered around downstairs, did more work, picked Puffball up and held him until the guinea pig made it clear he had to go potty. Bishamonten set him back in his cage, being attuned to the wiggling and squeaking that meant "Put me down, Daddy!" And then, finally, he sighed and knew what he had to do.

He set down a notebook and a pen, and sitting at his kitchen table as the sky darkened, he wrote it all out. There was something about the act of stream-of-consciousness writing that had always helped. He didn't have to construct it carefully, he didn't have to go back and revise it, and it was therapeutic. If he'd ever needed therapy, it was now.

"Tenou's my son," he wrote. "Shashi lied to both of us. She told him his father died, and that boy lost one potential father already when Taishakuten ended the engagement, and she was just going to let him go on alone.

"I don't know what to do. It's been a week, and I've had no contact with either of them. Kisshouten can tell something's wrong, but I can't tell her this.

"Because I still want _Shashi_. I do. Like the greatest fool in the history of the world, I want the woman who ran off and hid my child from me and lied so much I hardly know what to believe anymore. If she'd come back before I met Kisshouten, and probably after I had, and maybe even after we were engaged, I would have married her.

"Maybe even if I'd just married _Kisshouten_, I think now. Shashi came back and the desire and need for her was nearly swamping.

"But it's too late now, damn it. If I leave Kisshouten and go for Shashi, it will tear my wife apart. I love her too, but the passion's fading. I never had that problem with Shashi, quite the contrary apparently.

"And Shashi probably knows that I know now. Because Tenou hasn't called, even though I missed that coffee date. He has to know now too. I'll bet anything he's confused and angry, mostly at me I'm sure, because she can do no wrong in his eyes.

"I think that –"

A ring of the doorbell cut him off, and he got up and answered it. By all ironic rights it should have been the UPS guy with Kisshouten's Andrew Lloyd Webber collection, but it was instead Koumokuten.

"Hey Reginald. I'm dropping off your chafing dish you let me borrow," he informed the world at large. He held the thing up, smiling, and Bishamonten had to hold himself back from smacking Koumokuten across his ruddy-cheeked face.

"Thank you, Xavier. Just… uh, just give it here."

Bishamonten held out his hands, and Koumokuten passed the chafing dish over, then waited expectantly. Bishamonten decided that oh well, this would be a good distraction. A friend to make small talk with might help.

"Why don't you come in," he smiled. A fake smile, but it was a start.

Koumokuten did, and then grinned at the Christmas tree and asked, "You decorate that thing yourself? I like the eclectic look. Tamara whines when I pull out the vintage ornaments because 'it's not cool to have old ornaments'. She thinks we should have a department-store tree," he snorted in exasperation.

Bishamonten could believe it. Tamara was at that age where you went along with the herd while loudly proclaiming that you were a unique individual, one who didn't care what others thought at all.

"Yes, Kisshouten and I put it up just yesterday," he replied, ignoring memories of Shashi decorating a tree wearing nothing but a garter belt, thigh-high lacy stockings, and a "Come and get me, big boy" grin. And after the needles poked sensitive areas, a t-shirt too but oh well.

Koumokuten smiled at the pagan-turned-Christian symbol some more and chuckled, "Aguni and I put ours up weeks ago. Of course Tamara didn't help, she just demanded I leave the Darth Vader ornament off."

Somehow, the fact that he had a Darth Vader ornament didn't surprise his friend one bit. Koumokuten probably thought Darth Vader should have won.

"Xavier," Bishamonten murmured, taking Koumokuten's overcoat, "would you like something? Cookies, eggnog, fruitcake –"

"No fruitcake, thanks." Koumokuten seemed to be holding himself back from making a face as he went on, "But I'll take cookies and eggnog. We haven't made any cookies yet, and Tamara of course insists we hand-decorate them but won't help."

Once Bishamonten had passed his uninvited guest the food and drink, he settled back into his chair with some eggnog of his own. "So… you've no doubt heard that Aaron's engaged," he murmured, having found a hopefully safe subject to talk about.

Koumokuten laughed, "Yeah. That didn't take long at all. Maybe now we can stop having to wave our hands in front of his grinning face to get his attention during boring meetings." He drank some eggnog and then continued, "So soon all three Generals will be married. Isn't that fantastic?"

Bishamonten's face looked a little strained as he responded, "Yes. Marriage is a wonderful thing." _Except when you start to think that just maybe you married the wrong woman…_

Koumokuten took a bite of a snickerdoodle. "Reginald," he said once he'd swallowed his food, "Aaron and I are worried about you. I mean, really worried. So worried we're wondering if we can help in any way."

Bishamonten's cookie cracked in half from his grip. "Now why is that?" he asked, in as casual a tone as he could summon.

Koumokuten sighed and replied, "You're on edge. You're off your game. You snapped at James in front of everybody, and you even got mad at _Taishakuten_. Which is, like, asking for a death sentence."

Bishamonten opened his mouth, closed it, thought, then managed a weak, "It's just the stress of the season."

Koumokuten wasn't buying it. "No, I don't think so. Last Christmas you were singing in the parking garage, and quaffing hot toddies, and smiling when Victor stuck holly on everything, even the light fixtures and the computers."

He leaned forward, his eyes serious, and asked, "Is this about Shashi?"

Before Bishamonten could formulate a response, Kisshouten's voice came from the kitchen: "Excuse me."

They both whipped around to see Bishamonten's wife, tears in her eyes, holding the notebook he'd left on the table. Oh God… she'd read it, it was plain to see, and for a moment he couldn't even breathe.

"Reginald," she said, her voice strong even as the tears slipped down her cheeks, "we have to talk."

Koumokuten hastily stood up and muttered, "I think that's my cue to leave." He grabbed his coat, thought about wishing them a Merry Christmas, and then thought better of it. He yanked the door open, smiling nervously, without having even put his coat on.

"Um, bye."

And with that, Bishamonten's barrier against the coming storm was gone.

Koumokuten had barely shut the door before Kisshouten demanded, "Is this all true?" in a vehement whisper, holding the notebook up and crossing right to her husband, who'd stood up as well. "Or is this some sort of… of sick joke?"

"It's true," he told her, quiet and nervous and unable to lie anymore. Why the _hell _had he left that notebook open on the table instead of taking it with him, or at least closing it?

Maybe he'd wanted her to find it, deep down inside. Maybe he'd taken an easy way out instead of having to say it to her face. Or maybe he'd been too distraught to even think of the possibility that she'd find the notebook, but whatever it had been, she knew everything now.

And suddenly Kisshouten was in motion. Not a slap, or a punch, or a slash with her nails; instead she snatched up his empty cookie plate and hurled it into the TV. The shattering crash made him wince, but she didn't even look at it.

"How could you, Reginald?" she whispered, her voice shaking and her vision blurred by tears. "Damn you. I love you, and I worked to stay with you, and you do this to me?"

"Lotus –"

"NO!"

This first shout made him jerk back as if she'd just roundhouse-kicked him, and she went on, "Reginald, I could have understood about Tenou if you had told me the day you found out… but you _lied_ to me. I would have been angry right along with you that she'd hidden your son from you… but _you_ hid that from _me_."

She looked him in the eye, continuing, "He's a sweet boy. I would have felt cheated and inadequate somehow and jealous, but I would have understood. How could I expect you to turn your back on a young man you didn't sire on purpose, a young man who needs a father and likes you so much anyway?"

She leaned in and snapped, "I'm not furious about Tenou at all. I'm furious about _Shashi._"

Then she reached out and yanked him closer to her by the shirt, asking, "Did you kiss her that day you dropped off that gift for Taishakuten? Were you sleeping with her when I was in Toronto? Were you thinking of _her _when we were in bed?"

"No. And no." He took a deep breath and admitted, "And… these last few times… yes."

Kisshouten's face was white in fully understandable rage as she hissed, "You bastard. Did you think you would just have her on the side, carry on an affair while I was your comfortable, constant fall-back woman?"

"No!" he pleaded. "Kisshouten, no, I love –"

Now she did hit him, and not a slap either. She punched him in the jaw, fast and hard and bruising, and as he gasped she snarled, "Yes, I know you do. But in a way that would let you consider cheating on me. This is not a polygamous society, Reginald! You can't have two women."

He caught her hand, desperate and with tears in his own eyes, and begged, "Kisshouten, I want _you_, I'll never speak to her again if you –"

And Kisshouten, betrayed and hurt and still in love with him, yanked her hand away and replied, "No. I know what will happen. You'll stay away from her but each day you'll wonder if you made the right choice. In ten years, or maybe five or three or even one, we'll have turned so bitter we'll wonder how we ever loved each other."

So she looked at him head-on, standing tall with tears on her face, and she said, "I want a divorce."

He literally staggered back, choking on air. This wasn't what he'd wanted! Now that the chips were down, now that it was actually happening, he realized that it hurt too much. He'd thought about it, fantasized about it, played around with the idea of having Shashi instead of Kisshouten, but he'd never realized what that would do to him.

"Please, not that," he tried desperately. "What about… marriage counseling, we can – we can move away, I'll request a trans…"

He trailed off, and even now, he knew he would never give up his job. No, being the Senior Vice President of Expansion for Tenkai Corporation was a fundamental part of who he was, and he'd never let it go willingly. He might as well shave himself bald and change his name and convert to Buddhism like Jikokuten, all of which wouldn't be as big as that.

"Listen, please, don't go," he pleaded, trying to embrace her. "Kisshouten, please don't do this!"

But she just stepped out of his reach, still crying hard, and told him, "I can't stay married to you. I can't put myself through that! I can't endure loving and living with someone who can lie to me on such an important thing. Someone whose eye wanders and expects me to accept what he did!"

"I'm _sorry_," he begged brokenly. "I just… I…"

"I'm going to stay with my parents," she told him through her tears, "and I'll serve you with papers tomorrow. We are _over_, and it's going to kill me a little but I have to do this! Because I don't want to turn into someone who always has to wonder if the man she loves is thinking of someone else."

He could say nothing else, because she was _right_. He had hidden something huge from her, lied to her face, and counted on her to keep on being ignorant. He'd never really thought out what she'd do when she knew the truth, and hell, how could he honestly expect her to forgive him?

She said nothing else, just turned on her heel and ran up the stairs, and he stared after her for a full minute before he followed in a daze. Their bedroom door was shut, and he somehow had the sense that if he opened it she'd scream at him. He could hear her dragging her suitcase out, slamming drawers open and throwing clothes in the suitcase, still crying.

He just focused on the sounds, so he wouldn't have to think. If he thought, he just might break down and collapse into a sobbing heap, and he couldn't do that. Why? Because he just… just…

She slammed the door open, glared at him to make him move aside, and stormed down to the door, dragging her suitcase. He halted before he followed her out the door to her car like some sort of shell-shocked puppy, but when she finally came back in, he rasped, "Can't you _please _stay."

"No," was her firm answer, and she walked into the living room, saying over her shoulder, "I am taking Puffball. He'll be confused, and he'll miss you and I'm sorry that you'll miss him, but he's closer to me than you and I _need _him."

"Of course. He's – he's yours, you know that," Bishamonten said wretchedly, his heart squeezing even more at this second deprivation.

"Kisshouten, listen, I know you think I'll go to Shashi, but I _won't!_" he told her with almost manic volume. "She doesn't even know! She kept pushing me away, and please don't blame her for us separating!"

"She can _have _you!" she yelled, making Puffball purr in fear and hide in his plastic igloo. "Isn't that what you wanted, Reginald? Didn't you want her all along? You two liars deserve each other, and I honestly don't know how Tenou turned out as well as he did!"

With that she grabbed a blanket, threw it over the cage to protect Puffball from the cold, and marched back to the car. She came back to get his supplies, and finally said, "Goodbye, Reginald. We'll of course see us other again, even in this house when I take my other things back, but this is the last time you can truly call me your wife."

"Kisshouten –"

And this time he did follow her, out to the car she'd parked on the street to better bring things out to, wanting to grab her arm and forcibly pull her back inside. But no, he couldn't, she would fight him and it would just get worse, he knew that even as she dumped the guinea pig food and such in the backseat.

And then she was opening the driver's side door, slamming it shut, and he couldn't just let her go like _this! _He had to try harder, somehow make her see, pledge to put Shashi behind him for _good._

She turned the car on with a violent twist of her keys, as he yanked the door open and pleaded, "Kisshouten, I'm so sor–"

"Who would have known how bitterly sweet," Adele sighed on the radio, "this would taste?"

"I'm sorry!" he yelled, trying to drown the song out. "I never meant for it to happen like this! I never meant to hurt you! I lied about it so you wouldn't feel bad, as if I was doing it all just to spite you. I –"

"No," she growled, trying to shut her door while he was still holding onto it, "you lied for _yourself_. I would bet any amount of money that you rationalized it away as protecting me, but the real reason is because you didn't have the courage to admit or even face the truth. You'll have to face it now, and I don't envy you what you'll find."

He let the car door go, feeling like she'd punched him again, and she slammed it shut. Before she was tempted to run him over, he took a few steps back as she shifted gears, wiped her eyes, and drove off.

He suddenly became aware that he had an audience. Shara, Rasetsu, Brother, Andrea, and Mr. and Mrs. Dinkelfritz from next door stared at him, their mouths hanging open, then as one avoided his furious gaze and turned to go back inside their respective houses. Rasetsu even went so far as to whistle a carefree tune.

For a moment Bishamonten saw red, and had a vision of himself going into a screaming berserker rage, breaking down Rasetsu's door, and killing him with his bare hands before he did the same to everybody else who'd witnessed this destruction of his marriage. Hell, why stop there? He could kill the neighborhood as a whole, he knew they'd all be gossiping about this in mere hours anyway.

But one didn't get to be as powerful as he was without knowing how to negate urges that would mess everything up, so instead he whirled and stomped back to his house, slamming the door hard. He stormed back into his living room, and then the mists of fury cleared.

He stared at the destroyed television and fell to his hands and knees. Kisshouten was gone, and this time, she wouldn't come back. She'd taken the guinea pig he'd gotten her because he'd been trying to emulate _Shashi_,she'd taken her broken heart and half of his and left for good.

_Half of my heart…_

It felt like all of it. There was a physical, throbbing pain in his chest, like Kisshouten had ripped out his most vital organ.

But he'd driven her to it. If he'd just accepted how things were and counted his blessings, she wouldn't have made a decision she never should have had to make.

.

With a sort of battered numbness, Bishamonten studied a proposal the next day. Kujaku had taken one look at his ashen face, surreptitiously called Kisshouten to see what was going on, and nodded grimly when informed of the divorce.

As Bishamonten had sat like a stone through the morning briefing, Zouchouten and Koumokuten had exchanged worried glances, having been alerted by Kujaku. And now, as the Expansion VP read the same line five times without comprehending a word, the forces of contrition were mobilizing.

_I did it, _he thought dully. _I drove her to it. And my ear still hurts from Tentei's phone call, and –_

A sudden slam of his door made him look up. Koumokuten and Zouchouten stood awkwardly before him, Zouchouten slightly behind Koumokuten almost as if to block his route for running away. Both looked sad, and nervous, like they were afraid of their heads being bitten off, maybe even in a literal way.

"Hi," Koumokuten finally said, breaking the tense silence. "Hi. Can we talk?"

Bishamonten's hands jerked as he set his papers down, his pens disturbed by the violent motions of forms shoved across the desk. His answer was clipped and nearly belligerent: "I suppose so. Why?"

Zouchouten took a deep breath and began, "Reginald, we're aware of your upcoming divorce."

"Oh, you are. Good for you," Bishamonten said acidly, glaring at them. "Which no doubt means that Ellen knows too, and Aguni, neither of which has any business knowing a private matter!"

Koumokuten thought about saying something in his defense, like "My wife and I share everything, barring clothes and toothbrushes," but instead bit his lip and looked at Zouchouten to deal with that statement. Alas, Zouchouten was turning slightly pink in shame, so no help there.

But he rallied and went on, "Reginald, we came here to say how sorry we are. Xavier and I want you to know that if we can help you in any way, pretty much any way at all, you know we're here."

Bishamonten didn't want any help. He wanted them both to go stick their fingers in light sockets, and they could take whoever had told them about this with them. He also wanted to go castrate himself in penance, because those body parts had gotten him into this.

…On second thought, no, he wanted to keep those, they were pretty darn important.

So he forced himself to say, "That's a kind offer. But I don't want your assistance. I can handle this, I'm not a little boy."

"Losing your wife is something no one should go through alone," Zouchouten said quietly. "I know this firsthand, Reginald. You know about Kelly, you're so good at uncovering things, and let me tell you, if I hadn't had my family and friends I might just have gone to join her."

That was true, Bishamonten did know about Zouchouten's deceased wife. He had dug up things on his friends they might not have even remembered themselves, like the time Koumokuten kicked a pediatrician in the face or Zouchouten got a speeding ticket trying to get to the hospital where his niece had just been born. He'd kept all that knowledge to himself, just in case he or Taishakuten ever had to use it as leverage.

At Bishamonten's silence, Koumokuten tried, "Look, Reginald, buddy, you know he's right. We wanna help you! I mean, c'mon, our closest pal is getting a divorce, we know that has to suck so much dick it chokes."

"And I suppose you know _why _too," Bishamonten spat, readying himself for a lecture on fidelity and the sacred vows of matrimony.

But no, Koumokuten said honestly, "All we were told is that she left you. No one gave us a reason. Why, what happened?"

He and Zouchouten had a pretty good idea why Kisshouten had decided she couldn't stay married, and after hearing Kujaku say how upset and furious she was, they felt, honestly, very guilty. Their plan might have succeeded in one of its objectives, but at a cost they hadn't really thought too hard about.

Bishamonten tried to confirm, "You don't know? You really don't?"

"No," Zouchouten replied. "Will you tell us?"

Bishamonten decided then that this was a blessing. If he could just keep Kisshouten's mouth shut except in court, if maybe he pleaded with her and bribed her to never mention Shashi or Tenou to anyone they knew as friends, he wouldn't be so humiliated and ashamed. He could pretend it wasn't all his fault that way, and maybe he'd even convince himself that was so.

So he said bluntly, "No, I will _not _tell you. It's something private, something you don't ever have to know about."

Of course, then they might think up all sorts of untrue things, but at least they wouldn't have confirmation. They could speculate that Kisshouten had caught him in bed with two pole dancers, but they wouldn't _know_.

"Reginald, keeping it inside might very well poison you," Zouchouten pointed out in a worried tone. "You don't have to tell us now, and heck, you don't have to ever tell _us_, but someday you need to let it out. To a therapist, a family member, even… well, not Taishakuten, he probably wouldn't care," he sighed, and he was completely correct.

"If you've finished playing peer counselor," Bishamonten snapped, "I have things to do. Xavier, go back to giggling with your wife. Aaron, go back to smiling at your fiancée. Or maybe, just maybe, you two might try _actually working!_"

The last words were a yell, and it was clear that this conversation was over. Koumokuten and Zouchouten sighed, nodded, and turned to go, their shoulders slumped and glum expressions on their faces.

Bishamonten glared after them, then at the door when they shut it behind them. Nosy… busybody… idiots! Well-intentioned, but how could he ever tell them the truth? What could he even say?

"Well, see, ever since I saw Shashi again, I've wanted to get with her, and wouldn't you know it, because I did now nineteen years ago, she had a child! Your pal Tenou, Aaron. But she never told me, she told me he _wasn't _my son, and even though the bitch did that to me, I still wanted her.

"And like a complete dunce, I wrote everything out and left it where Kisshouten could find it. She flew off the handle, which I honestly can't blame her for, and that's that. So I'm left with nothing now, because Tenou probably hates me and something's going on with him, he didn't even call me.

"So I think he figured it all out, he's smart, and the excuse I gave him when I left suddenly was a really stupid one. And the timing was bad too, right after he showed me the ring I gave his mother, which she gave to him and told him was his dad's. So that's my story, and it plays like a tragic farce."

No… he couldn't say that. He growled and returned to his papers, which he still wasn't really reading.

Outside in the halls, Zouchouten and Koumokuten trudged into a break room, one that was luckily empty. The Kujaku-made poster of "Make Sure You Throw Your Coffee Cups Away, And We'll Be Happy All Darn Day" was a jarring contrast to their gloomy manners, with its bright colors and smiling dancing coffeepot.

"Go us," Zouchouten said disgustedly. "I _know _it's because of Shashi."

"It has to be," Koumokuten agreed, glaring at the happy poster. "Our brilliant plan worked a little too well, I think."

Zouchouten gazed out the window at the cloudless sky and admitted, "Xavier… I feel like scum. My God, what have we done to him? To Kisshouten? I don't think we deserve to call ourselves his friends."

And for once, Koumokuten didn't protest or make a snarky comment. Instead he nodded and sighed, "Shit, we killed his marriage. I mean, that was our plan, but I guess I just thought we'd get them to realize it wasn't working out and have an amicable divorce. You know, one where they'd stay friends."

"I feel like apologizing on bended knee," Zouchouten murmured. "Ellen will say that this is what we get for sticking our noses in where they didn't belong: angry Kisshouten, heartbroken Reginald, Shashi cut off and probably never to be spoken to again. And why?"

Koumokuten thought about admitting to the "stepping into Bishamonten's shoes and demanding a raise" motivation he'd brought to the table, but Zouchouten was still talking: "Because we wanted Shashi off our backs, and I thought that she and Reginald were meant to be. But nobody's ever really 'meant to be', are they?"

"Well," Koumokuten protested half-heartedly, "you don't know that. And you _know _there was something there."

"Yes," Zouchouten nodded, "but there was something there with Kisshouten as well, Xavier. And even though he loved Shashi first, and probably still loves her, I know Reginald. He'll lock those feelings away and never let them out again in penitent masochism. And even though their son needs a father, he –"

"Whoa, time out here," Koumokuten cut in, making a "T" sign with his arms. "What do you mean, 'their son'? Did they secretly screw and she got…"

It hit him then, and he was speechless for a moment, before he found his voice again and breathed, "Oh my sweet zombie Jesus. No way."

Zouchouten said nothing, just waited with an arched brow as Koumokuten fitted this exceedingly simple jigsaw together in his head. And then, to his surprise, the Marketing VP lit up and insisted, "Then it's okay! See, they _are _meant to –"

"Give it a rest," Zouchouten snapped. "Haven't we messed up enough? Haven't we made two, probably three people miserable already?"

"But we can fix it!" Koumokuten pleaded, fingers crossed for good luck. "We can make it all better. …Well, maybe not _all _better, but significantly improved from how it is now. We can call Tenou and tell him, 'Hey kid, Reginald's your dad, call him up and insist on him marrying your mom!' Or at least talking to her again, and then they'll realize that –"

"No," Zouchouten growled, forcibly uncrossing Koumokuten's fingers. "We've interfered enough. I feel indescribably sorry for poor Tenou, but unless he calls me and demands to know what happened I can't tell him the truth. It's not our place! Reginald has to do this on his own, dammit. I can't do any more, because it might make it even worse."

"Aaron, we _have _to fix this," Koumokuten said urgently. "If we don't, think of what'll happen! He'll be so distraught he'll make a series of major mistakes, which'll get him fired! And then, he'll mope around at home, or… or pull a Darrel! He'll move to _Tibet_, and get involved with independence protests, and of course the Chinese government will drag him off to a gulag and torture him to death!"

"Reginald will _not _move to Tibet, don't be stupid," Zouchouten snarled in annoyance. "And wouldn't you be happy if you got his position of second-in-command? I'm not a fool, _I _know your motivations for this!"

"Hey, look, I mean, yeah I want more power," Koumokuten replied unabashedly, "but not like _this!_ I like Reginald, dumbass. He's a jerky, stuck-up, selfish little fucker, but he's _our _jerky, stuck-up, selfish little fucker."

"Glad to hear that," Zouchouten sighed in relief. "But Xavier, I just don't know what to do. I really _want _to air it all out, call all three of them together and make them talk it through, but I think if we did that… number one, Shashi wouldn't come because you or I asked her, and they all might get mad at not being prepared for it."

"So what we have to do," Koumokuten said, a serious tone lacing his words, "is find a way to make them _think _they're doing it on their own. We have to be damn manipulative here. In fact, y'know what, leave this part to me."

"If I leave this part to you," his friend growled, "things will blow up. You'll get impatient and do something asinine, like trick them into showing up at a motel room."

Koumokuten's mouth fell open in surprise. Dear God, that was exactly the backup plan he had for Love Motel! Damn, either Zouchouten was a mind-reader, or he himself wasn't quite as original as he'd thought. And here Aguni had told him he was a creative genius.

"But maybe," Zouchouten was continuing, "maybe… yes, I think you're right. Reginald is suffering now, and the sooner he's back in Shashi's arms, the sooner he starts to heal. A new person to love works wonders, and I don't want to see him fired, like he probably will be if things don't change."

"Xavier and Aaron, unite!" Koumokuten crowed, fist-bumping his pal. "We're all-in now. And if we're super, super lucky… we can save him sooner rather than later."

.

"So now you know he's your son."

The soft, solemn words from the doorway made Bishamonten snap his head up so fast his neck cracked. How in the world…?

Kujaku closed the door behind him, a melancholy expression on his face, and continued, "And now you see that she was lying all along, and you lost Kisshouten because you lied too. So what will you do now, Reginald?"

"How do you know that?" Bishamonten rasped, as a video clip of a presentation played on his computer's screen, completely forgotten. "Who told you all that? Kisshouten?"

"Yes," Kujaku nodded, and then continued, "But I suspected he might be yours, ever since I learned that her son was the right age and had red hair. If I'd seen him face-to-face, I might have been sure. But what will you do? He must be –"

"I'm going to act like he's not," Bishamonten snarled, pointing a violent finger at Kujaku like a gun. "His mother ruined my life, and he must hate me anyway. He has to know, and he's made no contact with me for over a week!"

"Don't be a moron," Kujaku scolded, shaking a finger of his own. "Just because you're mad at the mom, don't take it out on the child! Shashi and Tenou are different people, and it's possible to have a relationship with a kid while disliking the parent. Happens all the time, all over the world."

"Don't lecture me," Bishamonten snarled, opening a desk drawer and trying to find a stapler to use as a weapon. "What do you know? You're not in my shoes."

Alas, no stapler, dammit. Now what was he supposed to threaten the manbitch with?

Kujaku looked so serious Bishamonten wondered if he'd encountered a hitherto-unknown twin, and he murmured, "Reginald… I tried to warn you. Ten months ago, I told you she would destroy what you had, in those exact words."

Bishamonten slammed his desk drawer shut and growled, "Victor, don't be so dramatic and gloating. No one could have predicted my marriage would fail. And if you spread false tales that I left Kisshouten for Shashi, or that Shashi and I are having an affair, or even mention her or Tenou at _all_," he was practically shouting now, "I will transfer you to a mid-level manager who will discipline your quirks!"

Kujaku just turned sad and replied, "Why would I do that? That's your business. And I'm not happy or gloating about this at all, you know. I feel _sorry _for you."

"I don't want your pity," Bishamonten hissed. "I want you to drop this and never mention it again." He turned back to his computer and pressed a button with unnecessary force, ordering, "Now go type something up and earn your paycheck."

Kujaku heaved a low sigh of "Yessir." He left the office, sat down in his chair, and opened a Word document. By the time Yasha came back from an errand, Kujaku was turning scribbled notes and other documents into a masterpiece of a proposal, a gloomy expression on his face.

Yasha laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and kissed the top of his head, and then asked, "Are you all right?"

Kujaku placed his hand over Yasha's, meeting his eyes and telling him, "_I'm_ fine. It's just… James, sometimes I really hate being right all the time."

.

That very late afternoon, only an hour before he was due to go home, Bishamonten found himself in the biggest restroom of the Senior VP floor.

This was the exclusive power bathroom. Oh, the executive assistants could use it too, but everybody else had to use the merely nice bathrooms for the peons. From what he'd heard the women's power bathroom was secretly used by more people than Karura, but oh well, she was really the only important woman on this floor.

The men's restroom he was currently in was like a fancy-schmantzy hotel restroom, maybe even a resort hotel in Vegas. It was done with a Classical theme, it even had little decorative pillars on the sink counter. It had marble countertops, granite floors, and best of all, locks that were always in tiptop shape. There was nothing worse than a broken bathroom lock, when all the other stalls were taken and you were desperate.

And did it have paper towels that never ran out? It had the softest, whitest, nicest paper towels one could hope for. And shining, brass fixtures on the sink, and the whole thing smelled like cologne. Bishamonten hadn't even been aware that they _made _cologne-scented air fresheners, but hey, what a contrast to most public bathrooms.

Ha, he was so powerful and rich that even his _work _restroom was premium! He pitied the poor, unimportant fools who would never see this wonderful realm. They all had to deal with faulty locks, running out of toilet paper and towels, that horrible smell, and more often than not graffiti, often of the vulgar kind. If anyone vandalized this bathroom, they would be hunted down and fired.

And it had a sound system too, how nice. It was currently playing an instrumental version of "Good King Wenceslas", although before it had been Sting. Well, too much Christmas music could drive one to insanity, Bishamonten thought as he washed his hands.

The door opened, and he looked over to see Zouchouten step in. Zouchouten smiled, Bishamonten tried a smile but couldn't manage it, and the bigger man greeted, "Hi, Reginald. How're you doing now?"

Bishamonten's snide joy at being in this restroom slipped away, leaving him snapping, "That's none of your business."

Zouchouten's eyebrows rose at this, but he cautiously replied, "Still upset, I see. There's no need to take it out on me, please remember. I was simply trying to be nice."

"I know," Bishamonten, sighed, his anger deflating. "I'm sorry. It's just… I'm so upset, and if you knew why you'd probably be angry at me," he said quickly, because Zouchouten had been right, this was poisoning him.

Did he want to talk about it? Honestly no, but maybe relieving a little of the pressure would help. Maybe just acknowledging to another person that he'd done _something _wrong would be beneficial.

Zouchouten smiled paternally and coaxed, "Come now, you know I won't judge you. We've known each other for eleven years, and I flatter myself that I'm your friend."

Bishamonten paused, wondering how you told a friend that all you wanted to do was be left alone and never hear the name "Ellen" again. Of course, if he said that Zouchouten might jam his head into the wall, or pick him up by the hair and yell about sour grapes, or simply leave and slam the door so hard the mirror would shatter.

So the VP of Expansion just shook his head and replied, "I appreciate your concern, really I do, but it's… personal."

Zouchouten gazed at him levelly, and murmured, "Shashi."

Bishamonten's eyes went so wide Zouchouten was afraid he'd cause permanent damage, and he howled, "No! For God's sake Aaron, how _dare _you assume that?"

"How?" Zouchouten crossed his arms over his chest and answered, "Maybe judging by the way your marriage fell apart faster than I ever thought possible. Maybe judging by the way you looked at her numerous times. Maybe judging by the way that her son has hair redder than a sunset, and connected so well with his _father._"

The stunned, furious, and nearly frantic Bishamonten roared, "How did _you_ know about that? Were you and Xavier lurking behind the corner in that coffee shop? You eavesdropping son of a _bitch!_"

Zouchouten just sighed again, shaking his head and replying, "When I met him, I knew. I was so surprised that you didn't seem to care. Look, Reginald, a child is a –"

"Aaron," Bishamonten hissed, "I didn't know. She told me he wasn't mine! I saw him and immediately thought she'd been pregnant when she left, but she lied through her teeth, to him as well!"

Zouchouten looked appalled as he breathed, "She _lied _to you? Oh my God."

There was a pause, and then he smiled sadly and continued, "And you still love her, I know you do."

"AARON! For once in your life," Bishamonten snarled, "listen to me when I tell you to do something. I'm ordering you right now: _back off!_"

They stared at each other, Bishamonten frowning in anger and Zouchouten frowning in concern. In the silence that had fallen, the only sounds were a dripping faucet and the sound system softly playing music. Bishamonten suddenly paled, looked frantically up at the speaker, and slammed out of the room as Zouchouten stared after him.

Zouchouten looked up at the speaker as well. Nothing out of the ordinary, so it must be the song: "…Don't forget me, I beg, I remember you sayin' sometimes it lasts, love, but sometimes it hurts instead…"

He cocked his head in thought. _Clearly, there's something about that song._

.

.

(AN: Okay, now that we've gotten the angst out of the way… it's time for Bishamonten to get his act together, Hakuryuu to get tipsy, and Karura to feed Zouchouten Christmas eatables in the next, most important chapter.

Despite my strong dislike of Kisshouten/Bishamonten, I felt sorry for them in this chapter, mostly because Kissh is kickass and I hate seeing her hurt. And really, they've been married ten years, they've invested a lot in each other. Tempting as it was to give them a bad marriage from the beginning, I've written that before and it was time for a change of pace.

Be consoled that she _will _be back, not conveniently shoved off to Canada again so Bishie and Shashi can… frolic in a winter wonderland, or something cheesy like that. We'll see her [and Puffball!] again, yay.

And oh yes, Yasha/Kujaku, I call it "Yakuja". Well, c'mon, if you didn't suspect that pairing you weren't paying very close attention! We can hopefully forgive Bishamonten for not picking up on that, because after all, he's been quite distracted. And here's a little present for you: we'll get a scene of Kujaku and Yasha at home in the last chapter, awright!)


	17. Christmas Rituals

_In which our hero receives an unexpected gift_

.

.

Christmas drew ever closer, a jolly juggernaut of candy canes, really stupid pop versions of songs that were only semi-decent to begin with, and the true meaning of the season: gettin' stuff. Oh, there were those purists who clung to the religious aspect, but the majority of society paid that part lip service while donning Santa suits and going shopping.

Bishamonten found himself attacked by Christmas at every turn. Usually he loved this season, but not this year. If he had to watch one more tug-at-the-heartstrings news segment of some soldier's chubby-cheeked kid lisping, "All I want fo' Chwissmas is my daddy back!" while the interviewer looked appropriately solemn, he was going to scream.

And the constant greetings of "Merry Christmas!" or "Happy Holidays!"… it was becoming like a wholesome version of "Heil Hitler!"; you couldn't just say "Hi" or "Bye", it had to be _festive_ or you were suspect.

The decorations had in many places been up since the day after Halloween, but now that it was less than a week away, you literally could not escape them unless you were in your house. On streetlamps, on the neighbors' houses, in whatever store or shop you went into, and Tenkai Corporation as well.

For you see, Taishakuten loved to win. He looked at other businesses' displays and decided that his could be better. So the skyscraper featured LED lights on the outside, LED lights on the inside, a series of trees in the lobby, and red and green garlands galore. To make himself look progressive he'd included a Hanukkah display too… in the basement where hardly anybody ever went.

His holiday party this year, he had proclaimed, would be the best one yet. Only his Senior VPs and their love interests/families would be invited from the company, but as always, Ashuraou would be there too. This year Ashura would join him, and Bishamonten had to wonder how it would go.

He had met the boy once, and being a lot like Taishakuten in many ways, he thought Ashura was a brat. He was probably the cutest child in existence, but he was very clingy and insisted on demonstrations of his father's love all the time. Bishamonten sincerely hoped he himself wouldn't snap when Ashura called Ashuraou "Daddy" and hugged him, and have to be pulled off before he beat Ashura's head against the floor.

Anyway, Taishakuten was adamant that this would be a great party. It was at his mansion on Christmas Day, early in the afternoon.

"If any of you wish to do things with your extended families," he'd sneered the first year he'd had it, "you would be wise to do them on Christmas Eve or Christmas morning. If you don't come, I will think you are not as loyal as I'd hoped."

That had been many years ago, and by now it wasn't so rigidly enforced, but everybody made sure to follow his suggestion. Actually, only Zouchouten and Koumokuten did, as their extended families lived in Zenmi; Bishamonten's parents were both dead and he'd been an only child, plus his cousins were all on the East Coast.

Bishamonten dreaded the party, honestly. He'd never attended one without Kisshouten, either as his fiancée or his wife, and to see three happy friends with their respective lovers would be hard. Not to mention Tamara would be there, and he wasn't in the mood for dealing with her.

He thought all this on the last Friday morning before Christmas Eve Day, which was a Monday. And the holiday cheer was in full operation: Hanranya had worn one of those abysmal knitted reindeer sweaters, Zouchouten's tie featured snowflakes on a green background, Koumokuten had worn red stud earrings instead of the usual gold, and Kujaku was so into the whole thing his boss was almost sickened.

"Jingle bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an egg," he sang, making Bishamonten snap, "Victor, don't ruin 'Jingle Bells'. Sing something else, and not in such a gleefully silly tone."

"Okay," Kujaku agreed, and then, with a deeper, very serious voice, he sang, "Bow down, bow down, before the power of Santa! Or be crushed, be crushed, byyy… his jolly boots of doom!"

Bishamonten just stared for a moment or two, and finally managed, "What in _Heaven's _name was that?"

"It's from the 'Invader Zim' Christmas episode," Kujaku cheerfully explained. "It's called 'Horrible Holiday Cheer', I watched it yesterday."

"What's an Invader Zim?" Bishamonten asked suspiciously. After all, he was an early-forties business executive, not a teenager or someone in their twenties. Pop counterculture tended to pass him by if it was aimed at younger viewers.

"It was a cartoon maybe six or so years ago," Kujaku explained. "It's become a cult classic, really. Anyway, as for the song, the title shrimpy alien character is trying to take over Earth, right? And he thinks if he's Santa, humanity will bow down to him and he can conquer them. He builds himself a Santa suit, and –"

"I don't need to hear it," Bishamonten groaned. "Why don't you just sing… just sing 'We Three Kings'."

"Okie-dokie! Ahem… 'We three kings of Tenkai Corporation… symbolize our generation… we call our wives on company time, and want to bring Ellen on a romantic vacation.'

"That good?" he asked seriously. "In the next stanza, I can work in how you, Reginald, have the awesomest assistant and secretary on the globe."

Bishamonten had a sudden mental image of him, Zouchouten, and Koumokuten as the Magi. Zouchouten would require a super-big camel, he himself would take charge and insist they had to follow that star, and Koumokuten would wear all black robes and a turban to look extra esoteric, and spend all his time talking to Aguni. He'd have brought her along, since there were no cell phones in the first century CE, and Zouchouten and Bishamonten would be tempted to shove frankincense and myrrh down his throat to make him shut up. And she'd probably dress like a man, because that woman wearing a shapeless dress and veil would just not work.

"Victor," Bishamonten finally sighed, "sing it the right way, I mean it. If you can't sing it right, don't sing at all. James, tell him he's being deliberately annoying to someone who's having a hard time."

"Like he said," Yasha said firmly, and shot Kujaku a disapproving look. "Mr. Bishamonten's wife left him! The least you could do is try to leave him alone, if not cheer him up."

"That's what I was trying to do," Kujaku said matter-of-factly, shooting his man a "You dumkopf" look in return.

Bishamonten just rubbed his temples, feeling a killer stress headache coming on.

Things had, believe it or not, improved a bit, because no one could be in that much emotional stress constantly. Eventually the mind and body had to have a break, and things cooled down. So while yes, it was still hard and he missed Kisshouten, he'd accepted the fact that they were getting a divorce. He'd talked to his lawyer about it, signed the preliminary paperwork, and called her to start the "who gets what" proceedings. He was relieved to see that she wasn't demanding a huge chunk of his assets; to the contrary, she wanted what was hers, nothing else, although of course there would be some confusion over what was hers and what was his.

They had already agreed that he would get the house. After all, he had paid for the great majority of it. But he honestly thought that he'd end up selling it, because there were too many memories of her wherever he looked. He was even sleeping in one of the guest bedrooms now, actually, for just that reason.

She'd returned to collect more clothes and her other effects, mostly while he was at work, but he had encountered her once when he came back. Their interactions were stiff, overly polite, and over with quickly. He'd stared at her back as she dragged two more suitcases to her car, and felt… a hollow, dull sense of relief, really.

Because in all honesty, she didn't deserve to be married to someone like him. He'd hidden things and never had the guts to tell her to her face what he'd done, and _she _had had the courage to insist that she needed a break from him. He could only hope that in time she would move on, not dwell on what he'd done to her and what she'd felt for him, the bad and the good alike.

He was surprised to see that he was coping a lot better than he'd expected. Perhaps, he realized, he should have done this himself when she came back, or before it. The minute he'd thought an affair with another woman would be an okay thing, he should have realized how selfish he was being.

And Shashi… he was angry at her still, who wouldn't be, but it was time to finally admit that yes, he was also still in love with her. He thought of her constantly, from doing fun, innocent, romantic things together to doing fun, adult, sexy things together, and everywhere in between.

At the same time, he'd told Kisshouten he wouldn't go to her, and he had to think that if he did things might get ugly. And Shashi still hadn't called him to confess what she'd done, and Tenou hadn't called him to ask for an explanation. For all he knew, they both despised him and never wanted to hear from him again.

So he was stuck, he grumbled to himself as he drove home. He'd hemmed himself in, and he couldn't break free without some sort of… divine intervention, he was starting to think.

He pulled into his garage, which seemed so empty with only one car there, and he decided that maybe he should get a new one, just to make himself feel better. He already had a Cadillac, so maybe… a Jaguar, he liked Jaguars. Ooh, a _red_ Jaguar, the Cadillac was white. Sure it was a midlife crisis like nothing before, but c'mon now, who didn't dream about a fast, red sports car?

He walked into his house with a near-spring in his step, dreaming about that fantasy new car. Yes, he'd even personalize the license plate like so many others did. Taishakuten's was "THUNDER", Koumokuten's was "HELLFIRE" and his other one was "KOUMKTN", and Vahyu's was simply "IMSEXY".

So his could be… "BISHMNTN"? That was good. Or maybe "EXPNSN1", but he liked the first one better. He could join the club of men who were so conceited, the random letters and digits weren't good enough for them.

And then, he saw something absolutely awful out his front window. In the yard right in front of him, Brother and Andrea's, were no less than _three _giant, robotic snowmen! Eight feet all, with goofy faces, corncob pipes, and top hats, he could see them over the fence that was covered in greenery and flashing lights even during the day.

"What the hell…?" he breathed, watching Brother duct-tape an extension cord to one's head. "What is this sick fuckery?"

Yes, that was a phrase he'd picked up from the youngsters. Not from Tenou, Tenou tended to avoid profanity, but from a very angry Yasha one day. And honestly, for this situation, it fit perfectly.

He had to know what he'd be dealing with, so he went back and got his coat, then walked out his door and across the street, calling, "Will you let me in the yard, Brother?"

"C'mon in!" the happy young neighbor called. "We unlocked the gate to get 'em in and haven't locked it yet. Reginald, Merry Christmas!"

"Yes, you too," Bishamonten replied, opening the gate and stalking over to the snowmen. Oh God, they looked like they had light bulbs inside them, so they'd glow. And judging by all the gears and wires he could see and probably the ones he couldn't, these things moved, he'd been correct earlier.

"What, exactly, are these?" he asked, keeping the distaste out of his voice with practiced ease.

"They're FROSTEEs," Brother informed him, pronouncing the word so he could tell it was an acronym. "Festive Reticulated Original Schematic Tree-safe Electronic Entertainers. Animatronic snowmen! They've been designed to be completely safe in the snow, even a howling blizzard! Isn't science great?"

Bishamonten thought that was a gross misuse of science's power. Forget genetic engineering and nuclear weapons, these were a blight.

"It's gonna be great this year," Brother said enthusiastically, patting one of the monstrosities. "Isn't Menard's fabulous? Can you believe these things were on clearance _before _Christmas?"

Bishamonten bit back the immediate retort of "Yes I can." Oh God, now he'd have to close his shades too. He grumpily asked, "Aren't they a huge drain on electricity, and thus double or triple your bill?"

"Yeah," Brother said unconcernedly, "but it's worth it, Reginald. Who cares about money when we have the perfect decorations for that special night?"

Who cared about extra pollution from generating all that electricity, either? Who cared that the money spent on power could have been used to buy important things, or given to the less fortunate? Who even cared that the tortured neighbors would be tempted to form a lynch mob? Not him!

Bishamonten pondered his chances of somehow knocking out the power or destroying the animatronic follies. He could dress in dark clothes, hop the fence, and cut the wires like James Bond, except this was much more important than some silly doomsday device. Or he could call in some favors and get the electric company to cut this house off for forty-eight hours, just for good measure.

And he could pin it on Rasetsu! On second thought, maybe he should just wait for the hockey coach to take the initiative himself. Yes! He'd insinuate that it would be a good thing to do.

He'd sigh, "It would take a real man to have the courage to destroy those eyesores. I'd applaud anyone who did that, and maybe buy him some wine in thanks. Too bad I'm so busy, or I'd do it myself." And Rasetsu, being Rasetsu, would take that as a green light for macho vandalism.

So Bishamonten smiled, "They certainly are _unique_. I'm willing to bet there aren't many other houses with decorations like that." _And if my brilliant plan succeeds, there'll be one less very soon._

.

Alas, Rasetsu and Shara were out of town until Monday, and as they hadn't returned early that morning, Bishamonten was forced to accept the fact that he wouldn't be able to nudge Rasetsu into trespassing and vandalism. He consoled himself that by next year he'd have probably found a new house, and then he wouldn't have to deal with either Rasetsu _or _Brother ever again.

He walked into work grumpy, and having made sure he had his ice-scraper, his emergency kit, and even flares in the trunk of his car, even though he was in a city. One could never be too careful.

The weather forecast was a 99.9% chance of a major snowstorm that evening or night, maybe even a blizzard. Children all over the city whined that this wasn't fair, they already had that day off from school! Why couldn't this snowstorm come a week after winter break, Ashura despaired to his father.

They hadn't had even a full inch of snow so far this entire winter, and what had fallen had quickly disappeared. It had been bitingly cold, just no snow: in Bishamonten's mind, the worst type of November and December. Well, now they were going to get hit with more than they could easily handle, but ha, he had yard servants to clear his sidewalks and driveways!

During the morning briefing, Souma passed out homemade cookies. She was really trying to keep Taishakuten happy so he wouldn't pick up on her plot to get away from him, and he seemed pleased with the gingerbread people. Not men only, because Souma was progressive. Heck, she'd used some men-cutouts and added halter-tops and breasts with frosting, because not all women wore skirts.

Bishamonten and Yasha each took one. Karura took two. Zouchouten took three. Taishakuten took one, and ate the arms, legs, and finally the head off. Koumokuten took two, and snapped the heads off then dunked the bodies into his coffee. Varuna passed on any, watching his boss with a scared look on his face.

Kujaku was in full Christmas swing that morning, singing "Deck The Halls" and wearing a tie with mistletoe. When Bishamonten was away, Yasha gave in, grabbed him, and bent him backwards with a smooch. Kujaku just grinned, because he'd gotten what he wanted.

When it was time for the "spymaster" rounds, Bishamonten encountered cheery person after cheery person. What was this? What had happened to the holiday season being the most stressful one, when the highest number of people offed themselves? For God's sake, last Christmas he'd encountered a man breaking down at his desk.

When he walked into Zouchouten's office, it got even worse.

Bishamonten glared at the sight presented to him. Karura was perched on Zouchouten's desk, flushing pink, caught in the act of feeding him a pfeffernuss cookie. He had his hand resting on her waist in a rather proprietary manner, and both had started and were staring at the man who'd wandered into their lovefest.

"Hello, Reginald," she said rather sheepishly. "Um, would you like one? I made extra."

"No," he snapped, as Zouchouten grinned unrepentantly and took another bite. "And I thought Taishakuten made it clear that your continued ability to work together depends on platonic interactions while in the office."

"True," Zouchouten admitted, reluctantly scooting his chair away from Karura, who hopped off the desk with her face still pink.

"When you're not doing things like that," Bishamonten sighed, "I feel better. Aaron, listen, maybe you can just tell me… is Xavier behaving himself? Is he working? Or is he being an infatuated bozo and wasting company time?"

"Last I saw him, he was dialing his wife, but that _was _an hour ago," Zouchouten allowed. "But if you're so concerned, you should probably check it out."

"If I must, I must," Bishamonten grumbled, and walked out.

This would suck. Majorly. If Koumokuten was indeed slacking off, Bishamonten would beat him back into line, because he wasn't in the mood for sappy, fire-referencing idiocy. He felt like the Grinch: he hated how exuberant the Whos (everyone else) were, and wanted to steal their fun and dump it off a mountain.

"Yes, my fiery little sexy elf helper!" Koumokuten was saying as Bishamonten came into the room. "She'll adore what we've gotten her. …What's that? No, she's not too old for us to put them under the tree while she's asleep! I mean, yeah she knows I'm Santa, she's known that since she was six thanks to Melissa, but it's about the _tradition_, fire goddess, the _tradition_."

Bishamonten had _had _it. He took a page out of Shashi's book and grabbed the phone away as Koumokuten whined, "Hey!"

Bishamonten put it to his ear, intending to yell, and Aguni was saying, "Master of my heart, can I sit on your knee when you get home and tell you how I've been a very naughty girl?"

Oh GAWD. His face blanched, and he quickly handed the phone back to Koumokuten, who grabbed it with a grouchy expression. The head of Marketing gave him a rude gesture, which Bishamonten glared at, and then Koumokuten sighed, "Pele, I missed that. What did you say?"

Bishamonten turned away just in time to miss the pervy grin, but unfortunately, he had to hear, "Why yes you _can_, my little fire muffin. Santa can't _wait _to hear the things you've done."

Bishamonten power-walked out the door, an expression of disgust on his face, and vowed that he would never, _ever _try something like that again. There were some topics that just weren't suitable for his ears, and now he wanted brain bleach.

He encountered Koumokuten once more that day, merely half an hour later. They met in the halls, and Bishamonten prepared himself for a bitchfit about stealing the phone. But no, he had been forgiven. Instead, Koumokuten was trying to cheer him up.

"So Reginald, we, uh, well, Aguni said to tell you she's looking forwards to seeing you tomorrow. You know, at the party. Tamara's going to sing 'What Child Is This'," he went on, sounding much more confident, "and Ellen's sister Karyoubinga's going to sing it with her. Naturally Tamara will be better," he concluded, unaware that Karyou could blow Tamara out of the water at age seven.

If this was supposed to make Bishamonten eager to go to the party, it backfired. He forced a smile and muttered, "How nice," while thinking, _I want to make you eat your phone, Xavier. I hate your daughter and hope she blows a vocal chord so you can't brag about her. I hope Aguni wrenches an ankle too, since we're on the subject of how much I dislike your family._

"Listen, you know, Aaron and I really, _really _want you to have a nice Christmas," Koumokuten said seriously. "We want to make sure it takes your mind off all you've been going through. So if you need anything, anything at all minus gay shit or a hooker, let us know."

Coming from Koumokuten, that was very kind. Bishamonten said as much, and felt slightly guilty about wanting to make his friend eat his phone a few seconds ago. Maybe the Christmas spirit had even gotten to Xavier "Evil Marketing Motherfucker" Koumokuten.

.

Seven o'clock that evening found Bishamonten staring blankly at his Christmas tree. He wanted, honestly, to set it on fire. It was just too cheerful, too innocent and festive, for what he was feeling right then.

He was at a loss what he should do tonight. Christmas Eves with Kisshouten had involved listening to Mannheim Steamroller and building a fire in the fireplace, sipping hot chocolate, and cuddling on the couch. Christmas Eves with Shashi had also involved Mannheim Steamroller, a fire, and cuddling, plus heartfelt talks of "What will the next year be like?" and then usually boinkage.

So perhaps he should recall Christmas Eves before he'd met Kisshouten and after Shashi had left him. But blah, they'd involved sitting at home all alone with a bottle of expensive wine, downing it while reminiscing, and wondering where she was and what she was doing. They had also involved hefty doses of "Poor me" thoughts, which he had enough of already, thank you.

And then, just when he was wondering if he should put on Mannheim Steamroller and pretend somebody was with him and all that that might entail, his doorbell rang.

Ah, a distraction! Even if this was a religious freak here to talk about why their particular faction was the true Christianity and everybody else was going to Hell, it would at least be something to do. He could put the fear of Reginald Bishamonten into them; he was good at yelling at religious freaks and scaring them.

But this was no religious nutter on his doorstep, and he then recalled that gated communities kept such riffraff out. No, this was a… courier?

A young woman wearing a long coat, a baseball cap with the company's name, and furred boots smiled at him, a truck with the company's logo parked behind her. She wasn't pretty in the traditional sense, but she was one of those people whose obvious joy for life made her beautiful.

"You Reginald Bishamonten?" she asked, shivering slightly.

He nodded, somewhat confused. His new TV had come already, he hadn't ordered anything else, and he couldn't see any packages at her feet.

She smiled and pulled a small, flat, square package out from behind her clipboard, chirping, "Great. This is for you. Sign here, sir," she ordered cheerfully.

Bishamonten took the package on autopilot and signed the electronic signature device she held out. What the hell was going on here? And what dastardly soul made a woman drive around when there was a storm coming, on Christmas Eve no less?

"Thanks. Happy Holidays, sir!" She waved and headed back to her truck as he shook his head in bewilderment, and closed the door.

He examined his mysterious gift. It was about four inches on each side, perfectly square, and light and thin. A disk? Had Tentei sent him all the wedding photos back? Or was this from Taishakuten, some sort of top-secret proposal he hadn't remembered hearing about?

It was certainly possible. He'd been a wreck, out of it and so distracted Yasha had had to yell his name three times this afternoon. Finally Taishakuten had ordered him to go home early, and while he'd really rather have preferred staying in the office he'd obeyed.

Bishamonten sat down on the couch and carefully ripped the paper off. Hmm, a music CD. Without looking at any song names, he turned the thing over, then froze.

Adele, "21". With a typed note that said simply, "Track Eleven. Play it now." He frantically checked the back, even though he already knew what Track Eleven was.

He wanted to hurl the thing out into the cold. He wanted to put the song on continuous loop and curl up sobbing like a child. He wanted to call the courier company and demand to know who'd sent this.

Instead he looked up. The first snowflakes were just starting to drift down, the sun had set long ago, and Brother and Andrea had turned their animatronic snowmen on. The faint strains of "Frosty The Snowman" were penetrating the walls, and Bishamonten knew that that stupid song was blaring so loud Rasetsu would be calling the police soon.

Christmas Eve. A time when life was all right, despite the cold and the darkness, and families drew together and lovers played Johnny Mathis, and used the age-old excuse of "I'm cold honey, let's cuddle under the blanket!" (Unless of course they were Jewish, Muslim, another non-Christian religion or atheist, but he wasn't thinking about political correctness now.)

For all he knew, Tenou had been conceived on Christmas Eve. His birthday was in late September, after all. And Christmas Eve 1994 had involved marathon sex to the soundtrack of Mannheim Steamroller.

Bishamonten looked back down at the CD, not even seeing it in the slightest. So. Someone knew about the song, someone who clearly wanted him to seek Shashi out again. Who?

Taishakuten? Probably not, as the CEO tended not to care about other people's emotional needs, not even his second-in-command's.

Kujaku? Much more likely. The secretary seemed to know everything, and he liked games. But Kujaku was of the opinion that Bishamonten should have stayed away from Shashi, so maybe not.

Yasha? Definitely not. Yasha advocated hiding emotion whenever possible. For God's sake, the man had never even mentioned he had a lover until Kujaku had let it slip, and he'd tried to brush it aside even then.

Koumokuten? Bishamonten shook his head quickly. Absolutely, positively _wrong. _Koumokuten hated Shashi with a passion.

Zouchouten? Somewhat more likely, but still probably inaccurate. Zouchouten was so wrapped up in Karura that Bishamonten could have committed hara-kiri right in front of him, the redhead sighed, and Zouchouten would just blink and say, "Hey, you're bleeding! You know, Ellen bleeds too."

Tenou? But why would he seek out his father? He probably thought Bishamonten had abandoned him and his mother. Besides, Tenou was shy, and he hadn't attempted contact for four weeks. He was probably furious.

Shashi? Maybe, but not too likely either. She would have called him or just shown up at his door. And she too was silent.

Bishamonten threw up his hands. Whoever it was, he was mad. Whoever it was was a downright (know-it-all) bastard. Meddling like this, trying to manipulate him into doing something wonderful –

He meant stupid! Not wonderful, _stupid! _Life was not some romcom, where the handsome yet dense male lead just swept the beautiful and equally dense heroine off her designer-shoed feet, while the sun shone and birds sang and everybody made cheesy one-liners.

So… why was he picking up the case again? Why was he getting frustrated that he couldn't get it open without scissors?

He set the CD down and crossed to the window. He took a deep breath, and approached the situation logically. His marriage was as good as over, he was slowly but surely going 'round the bend, Tenou deserved to have a father, and he was still very much in love with Shashi.

BUT. She was probably not in love with him anymore. She'd stayed away as much as she could, she'd thrown a fit when Taishakuten had ended their engagement, and she'd never told the father of her child the truth about Tenou. And as he watched snow start to cover the ground, he realized that maybe she never had loved him like he'd loved her. She'd _left_, suddenly and with a phone message: "I'm going to New York to get discovered. Don't you _dare_ try to find me."

Yet at the same time… she'd stayed now. And she'd almost kissed him that night in Koumokuten's study. She'd laughed and been friendly and desired him in some way too, he knew this.

Reginald Bishamonten suddenly whirled, leaving the CD on the end table and practically running into his hallway. Things had reached a tipping point, to either negative or positive, and all they needed was one tiny push, in either direction. Well, he was going to push it to positive, dammit.

So he grabbed his coat and the first shoes he encountered. They happened to be his exercise tennis, and while boots would have worked much better those took time to lace. He jammed his feet into his shoes, not even caring that his left sock was wrinkled. It didn't matter.

Because it was all down to this: he was going to _make _her listen to him. If she slammed the door in his face he'd ring the doorbell until she came out to make him stop. If she smacked him he'd step out of range and keep talking. If she clapped her hands over her ears and sang a nonsense song he'd yell so loud the windows would shake.

He didn't realize he was humming what he was now thinking of as their "theme song" until he was buttoning up his coat. Adele… that woman knew what she was talking about.

So he would walk into Shashi's house on Christmas Eve, tell her he loved her so damn much, and leave his heart in her hands. It was all he could do, he thought desperately as he locked his door, not even registering "Frosty The (Fucking) Snowman". Who cared about that song when he was mentally singing a much better one?

"_I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited, but I just couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it, I had hoped you'd see my face, and that you'd be reminded that for me…"_

"It isn't o-verrr." He sang it aloud, opening his garage door as the snow fell around him, and thought, _Not like this. I won't let it be._

.

Shashi stared at the news, hardly seeing it. Tenou was already asleep, he didn't need sleeping pills like she did now.

The newscaster was ending his broadcast on "The lighter side. We'll have a white Christmas after all, folks. Yes Virginia, this storm will bring over six inches of snow by the time it's done, and Old Saint Nick had better make sure he's got Rudolph tonight, ha ha ha!"

She resisted hurling the remote into the TV or out the window. Such cliché, trite sentiments made her want to scream.

It wasn't _fair_ that the world should go on making jokes and grinning about an obese housebreaker while her life was in ruins! Taishakuten had broken off their engagement, Tenou was still more upset than she'd ever seen him, and Bishamonten was no doubt snuggled up with his _gorgeous _wife, listening to Mannheim Steamroller.

She shut the television off, gazed blankly at the screen for a few moments, and put down the remote. Picking up her glass of eggnog, she was just debating whether or not to put on "Christmas With The Mormon Tabernacle Choir" when a knock came from the front door.

She stared at it, somewhat perturbed. No one ever came to her door at night, and it was a snowstorm. Surely the idiot neighbors weren't _that _desperate to have her come to their party.

And truly, they weren't. Hakuryuu, who had come out for some fresh air, stared in confusion at the man on Shashi's doorstep. He looked distraught, he was wearing tennis shoes with what looked like tailored pants, and in his slightly tipsy state, Hakuryuu thought all he needed was a green elf hat and he'd be Mr. Christmas.

"That's some red hair you have there!" the dermatologist called cheerfully. "Merry Christmas, sir!"

The guy turned a glare to him, and Hakuryuu mentally amended that a jolly expression was needed too. "Is she home?" the guy snapped, his breath forming clouds in front of his face.

Hakuryuu nodded, "Yes, she's home. She didn't want to join the party, silly woman."

Bishamonten, who could hear a drunken and out-of-tune rendition of "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" through the open door, frowned and muttered, "I simply _can't _imagine why." He knocked again, a bit harder this time.

Hakuryuu watched for a moment, realized that no more conversation would be forthcoming, and went back inside, joining in with his grandfather's singing: "Oh-ohh ti-idings of comfort and –"

He shut the door behind him and Bishamonten sighed, rubbing his temples. He felt very sorry for poor Shashi, living next to such people. He knocked one more time, and was just deciding that he should ring the bell and call her name at the top of his lungs when the door opened a crack.

"Shashi?" he queried softly.

He could see only part of her face through the door, but she looked utterly gobsmacked. "What…" She undid the safety catch and opened the door wide, gasping, "What are _you _doing here?"

He suddenly sagged, weary and strung out, and almost begged, "Let me in, please."

She did, her eyes wide and her mouth open. As Bishamonten stamped his feet to get the snow off, Shashi closed the door carefully so as not to wake Tenou (although really, that boy slept like a log. The knocking had gone right over his slumbering head).

"Um… Reginald. I, er… I'm sorry?" she tried weakly, awaiting the inevitable blowup of "You lied to me! You hid my child from me! You left me years ago! I'm suing!"

He leaned in and looked at her, his eyes serious, as she leaned back a bit. He quietly asked, "Are you? Are you sorry for pretending he wasn't my son, or are you just sorry that I figured it out, Shashi? Tell me why you did it. It's the least you can do."

She bit her lip, stared at a spot over his right shoulder, and softly admitted, "Reginald, I truly am sorry for what I did. I didn't know I was pregnant when I left you, and I never thought… I mean, I never expected to see you again."

"That wasn't what I wanted you to tell me," he sighed, then changed the subject with, "Kisshouten has filed for divorce." He said it bluntly, flatly, with his arms crossed and no discernable tremor in his voice.

She gasped again in shock, and cursed the sudden rush of hope in her chest. This wasn't a good thing! Poor Kisshouten, poor Bishamonten…

_Poor Shashi, _her egocentric personality added, sniffling a bit. _Now my fantasies of him whisking me away to a private cabin with rose petals on the bed will be violently dashed when he slams the door and never comes back, because I can't compare to that wonderful woman and he knows it._

"Why?" she finally whispered. "Is it… is it because of Tenou?"

He sighed again, and then told her, "No. But first, you tell me why you did it, and I'll tell you why she left me."

"I…"

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and confessed, "I pretended he wasn't yours because I didn't want to hurt you and Kisshouten. I _love _you, and I wanted you to be happy," she managed, starting to cry. "And now you're not, and I fully understand that you hate me, and –"

"I don't hate you," he told her softly, making her open her eyes in surprise. "I never hated you. Why did you leave in the first place? I was planning on asking you to marry me," he said in a whisper.

She squared her shoulders, frowning now as she replied, "I'm surprised you even have to ask that. Does a bombshell blonde with pink streaks in her hair ring any bells?"

He thought for a moment, then his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in shock. "You mean Lena?"

"I didn't know her name," she snapped, "but imagine my surprise when I went to get a sandwich at my favorite deli and you were sitting there with her arms around you. Imagine my shock when she kissed you on the cheek. Now, wouldn't you think that –"

Bishamonten looked like he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "That's why?" he asked incredulously. "That's why you ran away? Because of _Lena?_"

Shashi was now in "fight" mode as she snarled, "Of course, you idiot. When the man you love cheats on you with –"

"Lena is a _lesbian_," he practically thundered. "I dated her before I met you, and when she came out of the closet I wasn't surprised at all. She was in town to promote her new book, and we were catching up! And before you ask, she's one of those extremely physical people. Had you stayed to watch, you would have seen me ask her not to do that again."

Shashi felt like she had to sit down as she breathed, "She was a lesbian friend? You're not just –?"

"Why would I lie, Shashi? Why would I cheat on you?" There were tears in his eyes as he continued, "I tried to find you, I tried to call you, I wanted to hire a PI to track you down so I could talk to you. I almost lost my job I was so despondent and confused! When I came home that day to find your closet empty and that message on the answering machine, I went crazy."

He reached out a hand and settled it on her shoulder, like he was afraid she'd flee again, and told her, "I loved you. I still love you. And Kisshouten and I are through, dammit, and now I know that she was never truly the one for me."

She just stared, her mouth hanging open, and he pressed his advantage with, "We've both made stupid, colossal mistakes. We've both hidden things and tried to deny it, but we were lucky enough to meet again."

He smiled at her, watery but still there, and whispered, "Can I ask you something, Shashi?"

She swiped at her teary eyes, wanting both to grin like a fool and bawl. She'd wrecked his marriage, she'd wounded poor Kisshouten, she'd made Tenou hate her… but Bishamonten had sought her out, she now knew she'd made a very stupid decision nineteen years ago, and she _wanted _this, damn it.

"Yes," she decided, giving into the grinning like a fool urge. "Yes, yes you can ask me something."

His smile was getting stronger by the second as he murmured, "Seeing as I never did get the chance to ask you this before…"

He caught her hand, and while he didn't drop to one knee and hold out serious bling, he proposed for the second time in his life: "Shashi… will you, well, marry me? Once the divorce is final?"

He waited for a response, and got that open-mouthed stare again. He frowned slightly and tried, "Shashi? Shashi, are you all right?"

This wasn't how it was supposed to go; she was supposed to cry tears of joy and whisper, "Yes… oh Reginald, yes! Let's make up for lost time!"

He could see it now: a smaller wedding, maybe outside somewhere, with Tenou crying happily into his handkerchief as the best man and Taishakuten beaming, "All's well that ends well." Zouchouten would grin and Karura would laugh in happiness, Souma would happily throw rose petals, Kujaku would… probably save all those petals for scrapbooking or something, Yasha would even smile as a groomsman, and Koumokuten would… would…

Well, Koumokuten would probably give them an extremely inappropriate gift basket, which Aguni would have helped pick out too. Vahyu would vamp shamelessly in a suit as the guest trying to steal the show, and Varuna would in all likelihood get smashed at the reception, because being Koumokuten's assistant would drive anyone to the bottle. And Kumaraten and Kahra would beam, "Welcome to the family! We knew she had a thing for you all along."

Anyway, Shashi and Bishamonten would live, while not happily ever after, happi_er _ever after, and Tenou would do fun male-bonding activities with his father, and come into Tenkai Corporation for "Take Your Child To Work Day". Yes, that would negate Tamara's visit, which the office was still recovering from. Bishamonten and Shashi would never again wonder about the "what-ifs" and concentrate on the then and there, and while it would never be perfect (nothing could ever really be perfect), it would be _right._

If she said yes, that was. Well, if she didn't, he'd throw himself on his knees and cling to her leg like some sort of crazed Kujaku wannabe, bawling, "But I looove youuu!" Subtlety and refinement? Out the window they would go.

_Shoo, subtlety and refinement. This is no time for you!_

"Shashi?" he tried again, getting worried. "Are you all right? Are you –?"

"YES." It was a matter-of-fact but very heartfelt answer, and she did indeed cry. "Oh yes. Yes yes yes, Reginald. Kiss me," she ordered, grabbing his face and mashing their mouths together.

He was down with that, oh yes he was. He was so down with that he bent her backwards like some sort of Clark Gable impersonator, but ha, Clark Gable only had Vivien Leigh and not Shashi "Sexy Doctor" Prince. Not to mention that stuffy golden oldies actors tended not to use tongue in those back-bending, iconic onscreen smooches.

_As God is mah witness, _she sighed as she reciprocated his technique, _Ah'll never be lonely again!_

"Reginald," she breathed once she was vertical again, "is this why she left you?"

"Yes," he answered, leaning his forehead onto hers. "She found out that I love you, and I can't blame her for losing it. I miss her, but…"

He kissed her again, then continued rather breathlessly, "But ever since I saw you again, it was heading this way. I do wish there hadn't been that fight over the reference books, though," he muttered, feeling somewhat guilty.

"And I wish Taishakuten hadn't been such a coldhearted, conniving, in-the-closet bastard," she agreed. "But… oh, just kiss me some more." She smiled as he did so, and oh God, it was like the past nineteen years had been only a moment's worth of time.

"Shashi," he asked a few minutes later, grinning pervertedly, "do you still have that spot on your neck that drives you berserk in bed? I still remember where it is."

"Why _yes_," she replied brightly, tugging him into the living room. "Do you still not mind nail lines on your shoulder blades? And me calling you 'sexykins'?"

"I missed that," he told her wistfully. "Kisshouten kept her nails short for art's sake, and never got as wild as you did. And no, I don't mind at all. In fact, I once considered having 'Sexykins' tattooed on my bicep as a demonstration of my affection. I think that was the summer of 1993, you know, when you mentioned that you thought tattoos were hot."

"Oh, don't mar your perfect skin, Reginald," she smirked, taking off his coat. "Only _I _can do that."

And so clothes were ripped off and flung away, landing in various places. The couch was used for adult business, and frantic reacquaintance with each other's bodies took place. They made love, and when it was over, she held him to her tightly.

Wonderful, glorious, breathless and soul-shaking… _Best sex ever, _he thought hazily.

A little while later, they did it again. After that round was over, Bishamonten's body whined, "It's time to sleep, we're exhausted," but he mentally gagged it and threw it down the stairs. No, he was not closing his eyes, thank you.

But eventually, with Shashi slumbering with her face buried in his neck, he did. The snow fell harder outside, and Tenou slept upstairs.

Next door, Ryuu opened a gift of a Playstation game ("Zombie-Squisher 2012: Come And Get Some") as Hakuryuu poured himself a fourth hot toddy and Seiryuu considered cutting him off. Muffin snoozed in the basement, Mittens stole a bit of ham from an unattended plate, and Mikey lapped up attention from Ryuu's dad.

In a different house, Zouchouten put down "A Christmas Carol" and took off his glasses, patting a contented Lola on the head. In another different house, Karura gingerly placed Karyoubinga's gifts under the tree, careful not to wake her little sister. Over in a fourth house, Koumokuten toasted Aguni with brandy, as Tamara dreamed of sexy Christmas elves who looked _just _like Orlando Bloom.

In a McMansion, Taishakuten turned up Josh Groban, then went back to Ashuraou as Ashura listened very hard for Santa. In a ranch-style house, Kujaku stuck a Rudolph nose on sleeping Yasha, just for the heck of it. In a duplex, Souma ate her seventeenth Christmas cookie and made herself stop.

In a penthouse apartment suite with the wind whistling outside, Vahyu sang "Santa Baby" as he put up some decorations for his party tomorrow morning. In a house with a giant pool, Varuna snored so loudly his cat headed to the basement. In a condo, Kuyou and Hanranya braided each other's hair and told office jokes.

In a meticulously clean home, Kahra and Kumaraten engaged in sexual activities of their own. And in a home with a Japanese woodcut on the living room wall, Tentei and his wife chuckled and Kisshouten smiled as the Peanuts gang performed their iconic rendition of "Hark The Herald" on TV, holding a snoozing Puffball in her lap.

.

.

(AN: Yay, sex! …I mean, yay, engagement! Wow, Bishie moves fast.

Pfeffernuss are actual cookies. My mother makes them for everybody at Christmas every year, from my dad's great-great-great grandmother's recipe from Germany. They've got cardamom and walnuts in them, and they're great. Apparently Zouchouten likes them too, especially when they're Karura's.

…Okay, who else thinks "Zouchouten likes Karura's cookies" just _sounds_ bad?

So how many of you caught the "Invader Zim" song before I said where it was from? I'm not a hardcore fan of that show, but I found a lot of it really funny. And the Christmas episode is probably my favorite, partially because of that song.

You didn't _really _think I'd have Bishamonten cheat on Shashi years ago, did you? What terrible timing she had, for real. Well, all that's in the past. And in the future?

Well, in the next chapter, which is technically the last one although there is an epilogue, we'll see Tenou be adorable, Zouchouten and Koumokuten quaff alcoholic eggnog, and Taishakuten's reaction to this new development. Plus Kujaku will give Yasha an interesting Christmas gift.)


	18. Gingerbread Pancakes

_In which Tenou makes breakfast_

.

.

Tenou woke up on Christmas rather late. That was okay, he'd long ago stopped believing in Santa. Virtuously deciding that he'd make breakfast today, he got out of bed, put on his fuzzy slippers and a robe, and opened his door. Hmm, cinnamon rolls or gingerbread pancakes?

He rather thought the pancakes would be better. It was Christmas after all, and they hadn't made gingerbread cookies this year. He sighed as he walked down the hallway to the stairs. He'd been pretty mad at his mother, but darn it, it was _Christmas_, and while he was still upset, he loved her and for today they'd just pretend it was all fine.

He paused at the foot of the stairs, considering the windows. Yes, it was still snowing, and it looked like about five or six inches already. Still, the day was beautiful. The snow was fluffy and white, the cardinals were singing, somebody was snoring softly –

Somebody was snoring softly. A woman.

Tenou was now a bit nervous. His mom _never _slept downstairs. He glanced over to the door, and noted shoes that weren't his or Shashi's. So… had someone gotten caught in the storm? He thought that might be the case.

And then he heard a murmured noise in a different voice: a man's. It was one of those unconscious mutterings that people made in their sleep. So Tenou picked up a statuette, thought about running back upstairs and calling the police, and steeled himself instead.

He really hoped there was an innocent explanation, like a _couple_ had gotten caught in the storm. But heck, they were asleep, so he could just tiptoe in, check it out, and if he didn't know these people go back upstairs and wake his mother up.

He moved as quietly as he could into the living room, and oh God, those were pants and a _bra _tossed on the floor! He now faced a bit of a dilemma. Did he risk seeing something that he might never unsee… or did he miss seeing a hot, half-naked babe?

_Well, _teenage hormones said,_ maybe it's a really, __really__ pretty girl._

So Tenou Prince, holding his weapon and blushing beet red in embarrassed shame, tiptoed around the sofa, and gaped. The statuette almost tumbled from his hand, but he caught it quickly and gaped some more.

He thanked God that Shashi had a blanket on. She was clearly at least topless, and now that he looked around, he could see her underwear in the potted fern. She was sleeping on top of Bishamonten, who was drooling a bit and nude as well, judging by his bare shoulders and the boxers draped over the coffee table.

Tenou stared at his sleeping parents, and a slow grin spread over his face. Okay, he'd be making a _double _batch of gingerbread pancakes, as Bishamonten would no doubt be staying for breakfast. Heck, with the snow, maybe he'd stay for lunch and even dinner.

Maybe he'd stay _forever_.

.

Half an hour later, Shashi yawned and snuggled into the nice, warm surface she was lying on top of. Oh yes, nothing beat a muscular man for sleeping on, and Taishakuten had muttered, "You're crushing me, Shashi," and pushed her off… jerk. Like she was fat or something. But ha, his General of Expansion had just purred, "I remember this. It's perfect, so don't you dare move at all."

Leaving aside the fact that if she'd rolled off she would have fallen to the floor or bonked into the back of the couch, she'd been only too happy to comply. So forget Taishakuten, he'd been a mistake anyway, and she could call him up and sneer, "Guess what? Reginald's much, _much _better in bed than you are, in all sorts of ways, Mr. Inadequate."

Later. She didn't want to open her eyes just yet, because every wonderful second of this had to be savored. And it was _so_ wonderful she couldn't think of anything but how much she'd missed it.

Ahh, bliss. She was warm, she was comfy, she was loved, and Bishamonten smelled like gingerbread.

Which was – hey, that was odd. He'd smelled like Bishamonten before, which was a mix of faint cologne, clean skin, and masculine exertion due to energetic and very enjoyable activities. So where was the gingerbread smell coming from?

She opened her eyes and sniffed the air. Hmm, it was getting stronger, and now that she listened, she could hear the quietest of movements in the kitchen. Unless someone had broken in just to bake gingerbread, Tenou was the culprit – er, cause, because nothing that smelled so good could be a bad thing.

And then it hit her that she was kind of naked with a naked man underneath her, and her innocent child was around! She really should have thought of that last night, but it was too late now. The thing to do now was get dressed really, really quietly so Tenou wouldn't hear them and pop in at an inopportune and mind-scarring time.

"Reginald?" she whispered into Bishamonten's ear, poking at his chest. "Reginald, wake up."

"ZZZZZ…"

No response whatsoever, silly man. Well, he always had been hard to wake up in the mornings without an alarm clock. She'd once considered cymbals on that cabin vacation, and finally just yelled his name while shaking his shoulder violently.

And then, Shashi got a genius idea. She could play Princess and Sleeping Handsome, and wake him up with a smooch! And that was _so _totally _not _because she liked kissing him, uh-uh. Really. It was all to bring him back from the Land of Nod.

…So okay, yeah, it _was _partially for her benefit, oh well. Tough patooties.

She leaned in and planted one on him, her hand on the side of his face and her eyes slipping closed. For a moment there was no response, but then his lips began to return the pressure, yay! Ha-ha, her powerful sexual magnetism was pulling him out of his sleep.

"Mmmh…"

It was an appreciative little noise, and one of his hands came up to rest on the back of her neck. Aha, it was really working! Now all she had to do… was… uh…

Let her hands wander! And get his mouth open, so she could –

No, wait, she was trying to wake him up here, not initiate another round of physical love! Damn it all, why did the man have to be so good at this? And it just figured that whispering in his ear didn't work but liplock did. Sheesh.

"Reginald," she finally managed in a very soft voice, "Tenou's down here. Be very quiet and get dressed, all right?" she pleaded as his eyes opened and he frowned a bit, annoyed at being deprived of her lips. And then her words registered, and he came wide awake in what looked almost like panic.

"Tenou's down here?" he hissed softly. "What time is it? What did he see? And… did your house always smell like gingerbread and I just didn't notice last night?"

"He must be making something with gingerbread," she hissed back, wondering if she could get away with stealing the blanket and using it as cover while she dressed. "I don't know what time it is, and if we're lucky, he has no idea we're down here. Hopefully he just wandered downstairs into the kitchen and didn't notice anything amiss."

She popped her head over the back of the couch, and saw no Tenou standing there, pointing in horror. Unfortunately, she also saw that her bra had ended up halfway across the room, in the middle of the floor with nothing between it and the line of sight from the kitchen door. Crud.

"Okay," she whispered, looking back down at Bishamonten, "he's still in the kitchen. We'll just grab our clothes from wherever they may be, hide behind the wall, get dressed, and walk in there like we haven't used the living room couch for sex. He'll be stunned, but we can explain it as we eat."

"That's a sound plan," he agreed, but then pointed out, "He'll wonder why he didn't hear footsteps on the stairs, though."

"He'll just have to deal with it," she sighed, psyching herself up to throw the blanket off, and all the cold air that would entail. "He's an adult now, he'll get through it somehow. And Reginald… truly, he might even be pleased by this."

"Probably the reconciliation part," Bishamonten grumbled, "but I highly doubt any well-adjusted child wants to dwell on the fact that his parents slept together. Despite the obvious flaw in that logic," he snapped, before she could point it out.

"Right. Okay, are you ready?" she asked seriously, sounding like they were preparing for a war maneuver. "On three, all right? One… two…"

But damn, this air was cold, so she dragged her feet with, "Um, two and a half… two and three fifths…"

"Say 'three', Shashi," he sighed, trying to sit up. "Drawing it out makes it worse, you know."

"Fine… three."

She threw the blanket off and sighed as the cold air hit her full-force, goosebumps appearing all over her body. Oh, why didn't they all live in Arizona? Then again, desert nights were cold too, but still. Brrrr.

She cast an almost despairing eye over the living room. In addition to the boxers on the coffee table and the panties half-in the potted fern, there were man-pants by the bra in the middle of the floor, woman-pants on the mantle (that had been quite a throw, and over Bishamonten's shoulder no less), a woman-shirt by the TV, a man-shirt on a stuffed chair, a sock on the Christmas tree and one by the wall, and fluffy slippers on opposite sides of the couch. And an overcoat by one of the windows.

She decided she would grab her underwear first, put those on, and then get the rest. That way, if Tenou did come in, he'd be shocked but not scarred for life. After all, he'd seen his mom in a bikini before.

Bishamonten watched with an appreciative little smile on his face as Shashi gathered her lingerie and began to struggle into them, muttering, "Cold. It's cold, it's cold." Yes it was, but he was rather disappointed that there was no more nudity, he thought as he got up himself.

Ow, nail lines on his shoulder blades. But that was okay! They were a badge of… um… well, passionate, mind-blowing naughty business. He'd just ask Shashi to help him take care of them later, which just might lead to more sex. But that was a "sacrifice", he grinned, that he was willing to make.

He was glad that so far, Tenou hadn't popped in. He himself just went the "get all my clothes together" route, trusting that their luck would hold. And it did: no shrieks of "My eyes! My eyes!" or "Oh my GOD, put some pants on, man!" or even "Gaah!"

"Reginald," Shashi gasped as she circled around, "your back!"

She felt pretty guilty now. She hadn't really registered what she'd been doing when she'd marked him, poor man. Well, maybe she could quickly get some hydrogen peroxide once they broke the news to Tenou, and minister to her new fiancé with love and devotion, or something romantic like that.

"I told you I didn't mind, remember?" he smirked, stepping into his pants. "I told you I even missed it, if I recall correctly. Yes they hurt now, but I barely noticed last night."

No, he wasn't a masochist, not really. If she'd done it just to cause pain, they would have been getting into territory he probably wouldn't want to explore further. At the time, thought, he'd just taken it as an affirmation that awright, she liked what he was doing!

"Well, listen, I'll help you get them cleaned later, all right? We don't want infection setting in," she said seriously, the perfect doctor.

"No, of course we don't," he agreed, buttoning his shirt back up. "But it's not like they're fresh, they stopped bleeding hours ago. Anyway, Shashi… do you have any idea what our opening line should be?"

He'd considered, "Guess what son? I just banged your mother!" for only a second, mostly for its blunt, no beating-around-the-bush value. Then he'd considered, "Tenou, see, when a man and a woman love each other very much and just got engaged, passion often runs away with them, and that's what happened here." Good, but a bit formal, because the youth these tended to snort with laughter at old-fashioned phrases like "passion runs away with them".

And he certainly wasn't going to try to be hip, and say something like, "See, dude, I was so stoked to have your mom say she'd be mine we just _had _to get horizontal on the couch you sit on," no way. And he wasn't even going to go _near _a hip-hop take on this, because he could actually speak with the proper tense and conjugation, use eloquent vocabulary instead of profanity, and also had the ability to say "I am" instead of "I be".

Not to mention that Tenou thought rap was dumb and rather terrible anyway, hallelujah. If his son had wanted to be the next Flo-Rida, Bishamonten might have had to cry. Nope, Tenou wanted to be the next Chad Kroeger, which was much more acceptable to his father. He would have preferred him to want to be the next Bono, but oh well.

Shashi too had been thinking what to say to their offspring, and finally sighed, "Something like, I don't know, 'We all know now, we're in love and getting married,' and then we'll see what he says, I think."

"I feel nervous," Bishamonten admitted as he fixed his hair. "I mean, obviously I love him and want him to love me too, but most parents don't just meet their son _as _their son for the first time like this."

"I'm sorry," she told him solemnly. "You know I am. But he _wants _you to be his dad. He was so distraught that you walked out on him and didn't call, I didn't know what to do."

"And _I'm_ sorry for _that_," he told her, equally solemnly. "So I'll make sure to tell him I am, and – listen, I'm sorry to _you _too. I mean, we talked it over last night, but it bears repeating, I think. What I did was selfish, trying to pretend he wasn't my child and that I didn't love you."

"But it's fine now," she whispered firmly, running a strand of his hair through her fingers. "Things will be better – a _lot _better – from now on."

He nodded, and she turned to towards the kitchen with a determined look on her face. He stopped her, though, with a hand on her arm, and proffered it with a quiet, "Hold my hand? For both support and because it brings back memories?"

And so they walked into the kitchen hand in hand, the smell of gingerbread all around, and encountered a startling thing. Tenou grinned at them, having been waiting for them to come in, and greeted, "Hi Mother. Hi Dad. I made gingerbread pancakes."

Bishamonten's jaw dropped, Shashi's eyes widened, and Tenou held up the plate and went on, "I'd hoped the aroma would wake you guys up. You've got perfect timing, I just took the last ones off the griddle."

"Honey," Shashi said rather stupidly, "how did you know he was here?"

"Oh, I heard snoring and looked in," Tenou revealed, still grinning. "It was PG, honestly. All I saw were your heads and Dad's shoulders."

Bishamonten felt all warm and fluffy inside. Tenou was calling him "Dad"! And that was probably one of the neatest, coolest, mind-bogglingly awesome feelings _ever._ It was right up there with when Shashi had said she'd marry him, and that most excellent first orgasm last night, although of course that and this were completely different forms of awesome.

"I put your place over there," Tenou told him, nodding to the setting on the left side of the table. "Across from Mother, next to me. I wanted to be in the middle. Go ahead, sit down, both of you! The pancakes are getting cold."

His parents obeyed, still a bit stunned, and Tenou doled pancakes out, smiling to beat the band. Finally, as he sat down, he asked, "I do have once concern, though. What about Kisshouten? Or did something happen, like I hope for the sake of propriety is the case?"

"Kisshouten and I have separated," Bishamonten explained quietly. "And that's the best thing. Because you see Tenou," he reached out and took Shashi's hand, "your mother and I are going to get married."

Tenou's grin was now face-breaking, and he nearly yelled, "For real? We're all going to be together?"

His joy was nearly childlike, he thought a bit ruefully, but oh well. It wasn't every day you gained a dad and knew you'd have him forever. He did feel a bit bad about Kisshouten, he did like her, but honestly, it was hard to feel guilty or sad when he'd learned such exciting news.

"For real, honey," Shashi laughed. "Now of course it'll be an adjustment, and we'll have to wait until the divorce is final, but yes, Reginald will live with us. We'll have to decide _where_, but we'll be a family."

"Can I give you a hug?" Tenou asked Bishamonten. "I know you usually don't like physical contact, but –"

"I would love _that _physical contact," Bishamonten told him with a smile. "Please, go right ahead."

They stood up, and what an awesome feeling, truly: hugging his son. Being a _dad. _Both of them finally knowing who they were, and that they were loved. Of course it was new, and it would take time to deepen it, but this relationship had been craved for years, and acutely craved for weeks.

When they finally drew apart, there wasn't a dry eye in the house. Whoa, familial affection overload!

"Hey Dad – you don't mind if I call you that?"

" 'Dad' is perfect," Bishamonten assured Tenou as he cut up his pancakes. "I'll never get tired of hearing you say that. But yes, what is it?"

Tenou put down his own silverware, drew the chain out from under his shirt, unhooked it and slid the ring off, held it out, and asked, "Do you want your ring back? I mean, now that you're marrying Mom, and I know who you are, I –"

"Keep it," Bishamonten said firmly, folding Tenou's hand back over the ring. "I want you to have it. I gave it to your mother because I loved her, and I'm happy that she passed it on to you. Now I'm giving it to you, because I love _you_, just of course not in the same way."

And they talked for hours: about how at their first dinner date, Shashi had accidentally spilled a glass of water onto Bishamonten's lap; about how Bishamonten had missed her for years and she'd missed him back; about how Tenou once wanted to be Spiderman when he grew up; and about what the future would hold.

It was decided that, as Bishamonten had planned to sell his house anyway and moving one person was easier than moving two people, he would move into 2285 Royalty Drive. Shashi, in her good mood, was willing to condemn herself to dealing with the nice people next door, although that wasn't how she thought of them.

Tenou, however, was all too happy to tell Bishamonten, "And we have super-cool neighbors on the right. I'll introduce you, you'll love them! They're musicians. Well, they're a computer programmer and a dermatologist who play music, and their cousin comes over too, he's great."

Having only encountered Hakuryuu for less than a minute, Bishamonten decided that maybe he'd been too harsh in his judgment last night. Maybe the guy really wasn't a total dunce, as he'd muttered inside his head then.

Tenou watched his parental units smile at each other, like two middle-aged teenagers. And actually, he wasn't _too _weirded out by the sex part. He of course didn't want to think to hard about what it entailed, he was after all a well-adjusted young man, but he just figured it had been lovemaking, not some sort of porn-style "Be my stud, I'm your slut!" thing.

He thought perhaps he should earn himself the "Perfect Child" award and let them do it again, they probably wanted to. But not in the living room, and he'd made sure to sit on a chair, not the couch. Shashi would probably make sure it was clean, and then he'd feel better about sitting on it in a couple days.

And judging by the way they kept eyeing each other, they were thinking along the same lines. They no doubt were wondering how to make it work, though, with him sitting right there and chatting about how they should all take a vacation that summer. So he changed the subject, a bit abruptly but oh well.

"You know, if you wanna, um, spend some more alone time with each other… I do have noise-canceling headphones," Tenou pointed out, a flush on his cheeks but a grin on his lips.

Shashi thought that was a most excellent idea, and wasn't Tenou the most wonderful son in the history of the world? Bishamonten thought that was a perfectly perfect idea, and resolved to get Tenou a guinea pig in thanks. Then they could all have a great pet, although of course it would be different than Puffball, but it was a start.

"Thank you," they chorused, bright smiles on their faces.

"And we will keep it down," Bishamonten added, a slight bit of pink on his own cheeks. "Tenou, you know, you really are a most mature and understanding young man." He mentally added, _Definitely capable of caring for a pet. And when you go off to college, Shashi and I will be more than willing to look after it._

And so Tenou went up to get his headphones with a pleasant, "I can just hang out on the living room for a while. We can open presents later, if you want."

"I feel like I should get him something," Bishamonten murmured the second Tenou went up the stairs. "Shashi, you remember how much you liked guinea pigs. Would you be open to having one again?"

"Well of _course _I would," she said, like he was some sort of idiot for thinking she might not. "I loved mine. Why, for Tenou? He does like animals, that would be fantastic."

"Well then," Bishamonten said firmly, "I can simply tell him, when it's gift time, that I'll be getting him one. An adoption, I think, they tend to be more socialized that way. Male or female, do you think?"

"Maybe two females," she thought aloud, "because when he's gone they can keep each other company. And you know, they are herd animals, they need friends. It's actually recommended that if you have a sow, you get her another for that social piece."

"I knew that," he said proudly. "Because I'm a piggy person."

When Tenou came back downstairs, Bishamonten told him, "I'll be staying most of today. It's not finished snowing yet anyway, and I'll need time to dig my car out. I am actually supposed to be at a party later," he said slowly, suddenly remembering that, "but I won't be going. I'll just call them in a while and tell them I'm here instead. They'll understand, I'm confident they will."

"Great."

And with that, Bishamonten held a hand out to his fiancée, and they adjourned upstairs for some snugglebunnies.

.

Three hours later, Taishakuten's party was in full swing. There was fabulous catered food, alcoholic eggnog, wine, sparkling juice for the kiddies (Tamara bridled at that term) and cookies as far as the eye could see. Tamara and Karyoubinga had sung their song, Zouchouten giving Koumokuten a proud smirk when Karyou outperformed the teenager.

Tamara was currently sulking, sitting in a corner by herself and glaring at everybody else. Not cool! Some little brat had upstaged her, and while Koumokuten had been appropriately upset, Aguni had lavished praise upon the little girl. Karyoubinga had been scared of her and hidden behind Karura, but oh well.

Ashura and Karyou had hit it off, both being adorable children with similar interests in toys and cute animals, and Ashura was proudly telling her all about his new puppy, Shuratou.

"She's really fun!" he bragged. "She's a German Shepherd, and my daddy picked her out of the _whole _litter just for _me! _She's still being housetrained, but she chewed up Taishakuten's favorite shoes," he said gleefully.

So maybe Shuratou the attack dog wouldn't be a reality, but Shuratou the destroyer of Taishakuten's property had already come to pass! And Ashuraou had made it very clear that there would be no hitting the dog with a newspaper or otherwise hurting her, so all Taishakuten could do was yell until he was blue in the face.

And joy of joys, Shuratou didn't care at all! She just cocked her head, watched him, yawned, and went back to Ashura, who secretly praised her for her actions. If a puppy was given positive reinforcement, she thought what she'd done was good! Bwa-ha-ha, Ashura could make sure she always messed Taishakuten's things up.

So he was coming out on top. Ashuraou had snapped at his partner for the unwanted child psychologist appointment, and had seen that yes, the CEO was pretty mean to his son. He'd pulled the "I won't put out if you don't shape up" trick, and Taishakuten had had no choice but to shape up. He still hated Ashura and Ashura still hated him, but Ashura no longer wanted to live with his grandparents when there was all sorts of fun to be had tormenting the stupidhead here.

The party was humming along well, no outbursts or arguments, but there was one important thing missing. And two people were rather nervous about that.

"We should call him," Koumokuten insisted to Zouchouten. "I'm not joking about this. What if something went wrong, and he shot himself in the head in angst that his life is in shambles?"

"Reginald did not shoot himself in the head," Zouchouten said firmly, taking another glass of eggnog. "He's not the type of person to commit suicide. He's more the type of person to take out his neighbors if he gets upset enough."

"Okay, so we should call him and make sure he didn't murder the football coach and his fanboy," Koumokuten snapped. "I mean it, I have to know if –"

"Daddy? Daddy, can I have some of the eggnog too?" Tamara asked, as innocently as she could.

"No," Koumokuten said firmly. "Princess, you're seventeen, not twenty-one, and I don't want you becoming an alcoholic! Go have some more sparkling juice, and talk to – talk to Ellen," he decided.

As Tamara was muttering that she didn't want to talk to the sibling of the little brat who'd humiliated her, and Zouchouten was gearing up to defend his future sister-in-law, Taishakuten's phone rang. He looked down at it with an eyebrow raised, saw who was calling, and answered it quickly.

"Reginald," he said rather snappishly, "you're not here. The streets have mostly been cleared, so unless you've been in an accident I do hope you've got a good excuse."

"I'm sorry I'm not there, sir," Bishamonten replied, not sounding sorry at all, "but I'm spending time with my new fiancée and my son. That's more important than the party, I think."

"Ah, so you figured it out," Taishakuten smirked, snagging some more pineapple. "Well Reginald, congratulations and don't get any ideas about you being superior to me in any way, shape, or form. I'm still the king and you're just my General of Expansion."

On the other end, Bishamonten rolled his eyes heavenwards. That man was so conceited it was ridiculous.

"I don't think that at all, sir," he lied, yelling, "I win!" and jumping up and down in his mind. "I'm just very thankful she met you so I could meet her again."

"Mm. Well, things seem to have worked out," Taishakuten murmured. "I anticipate some friction when the two of us encounter each other at company events, but if she's agreed to marry you'll perhaps she'll have worked through her hatred of me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need some more ham."

"Yes, of course sir. Have a nice party," Bishamonten farewelled, hanging up and placing his phone back on the nightstand.

Oh, there was just something so _decadent _about being naked and in bed with someone, and talking to someone else with them none the wiser as to what was happening on your end. He grinned at Shashi, who grinned back and looped an arm over his torso, pleased by that as well.

But a mere thirty seconds later, his phone rang again. With a slight frown, he picked it up and answered, "Yes?"

"Reginald?" Zouchouten said on the other end, the speaker function on so Koumokuten could hear too. They were in a different, quiet room, the better to make Bishamonten think it was just Zouchouten calling him.

"Yes, Aaron? What do you want?"

"I was just calling to make sure you're okay," Zouchouten replied, a bit nervous at his friend's rather annoyed tone. "You're not at the party, I just wondered if everything's all right. It is, isn't it?"

"Well Aaron, to be perfectly blunt: I'm marrying Shashi, I stayed the night, I've worked things out with Tenou, and I'm not going to be at the party. At all," Bishamonten said, and they could hear the smirk in his voice. "Tell Xavier that the two of you will just have to deal with having her as my future wife."

Koumokuten mouthed, "Tell him I knew it! Tell him –"

"Congratulations then," Zouchouten said warmly, ignoring Koumokuten. "I'm glad. We'll force ourselves to play nice," he went on, smirking himself.

"Yes, do that. I have to go now, and – just a minute. Yes, I really do have to go. Goodbye."And very faintly, they could hear a pleased, "Again? Why, Shashi… all right then," before the call ended.

Zouchouten and Koumokuten grinned at each other and high-fived. Reconciliation Retreat had worked, yee-ha!

"Success, Aaron!" Koumokuten chuckled. "I knew if we sent him that CD he'd go after her."

Zouchouten laughed, toasting his friend with his eggnog and pointing out, "Yes, but I was the one who figured out the significance of that song. It was a team effort." And snickering like clever schoolboys, the Senior Vice Presidents of Marketing and Research and Development placed bets on when the wedding would be.

.

As Zouchouten and Koumokuten were gambling with people's lives, Yasha was staring at a giant box beside his Christmas tree, labeled "For the sexiest executive assistant in the whole dang universe".

"Um, Victor," he asked almost nervously, "it's not, er… it's not a matching set of leather shorts, cuffs, and leashes, is it? Because that was a _joke._"

Kujaku just dunked a gingerbread man headfirst into his hot chocolate. "I'm not giving you any hints," he said serenely. "Open it and find out, silly. Or we could have more sex, if you'd rather do that," he suggested, winking.

Yasha gave him a look that said, "No sex for you if it's a bondage set." "Why don't you open another one of yours," he responded grumpily.

Sex was all well and good and very fun, but they'd already gotten busy this morning, and he really wanted to see Kujaku's reaction to the "Life of Brian" Extended Edition DVD. He rented it all the time with Netflix; surprisingly, they were _both_ huge Monty Python fans (Yasha's favorite sketch was the "I'm a lumberjack, and I'm okay" one, because of the singing Mounties).

"Nope," Kujaku replied matter-of-factly. "You got me six, I got you two. I've opened three already, now it's your turn. And by the way… I'm wearing the t-shirt to work tomorrow."

Yasha blanched at this. The t-shirt had been ordered off an irreverent online store and featured Ralph Wiggum from "The Simpsons", with a word bubble that said, "I like men now!"

"Don't do that," he pleaded. "Charles will hone in on you and make a lewd suggestion, and then I'll have to knock him over the head and mail him to Afghanistan," he nearly vowed. After all, nobody hit on his man!

"They'd execute him in Afghanistan," Kujaku scolded, shaking a finger. "As an example of heretic American deviancy. Mail him to Antarctica instead. And James… we live together, we sleep together, we go to dinner and I've met your parents. Don't you think it's time that the office knows?"

Yasha sighed. He was so firmly in the closet Kujaku had once suggested a prybar, and _really _didn't want Bishamonten to yell, "Oh, EW!" and order him to wear gloves at work. Bishamonten would, in actuality, blink and say something like, "Wow, I never noticed," and go back to whatever he'd been doing, but Yasha was paranoid.

"I'll make you a deal," he compromised. "I will never again mention a fictional girlfriend, and if someone asks I'll tell them. In return, I want you to stop making innuendoes and dropping sledgehammer hints that most of them don't get."

"Hmmm… that's fair enough," Kujaku decided, then ordered, "Open your gift now, Mr. Stalling For Time."

Yasha gave in gracefully and dragged the very heavy box away from the tree. What in the world was this? Maybe Kujaku had made him a cast-iron sculpture, or filled the box with a couple thousand Mentos in heavy containers, or bought him a large rock for the garden, as he'd once mentioned he thought they should get.

As he ripped the wrapping paper off, he couldn't help but ask, "You're sure I'll like this?" Because if the sculpture was stupid, he'd be rather put out. Then again, Mentos were his favorite candy and the garden did need a rock.

But the gift was none of these, he saw as he finally got the cardboard open and the packing peanuts brushed aside. Instead, it was a horned samurai helmet, inscribed with a crest of an oni.

"Victor," he asked, shocked and impressed, "did you steal this from a museum?"

He lifted the helmet out and realized that the box still had a lot of things in it. As he dug around and brought out a shoulder guard, Kujaku smirked, "Oh no. No, I commissioned it from an artisan who makes reproduction armor for historical films in Japan. Isn't the internet great?

"And it's your size," he added, setting down his hot chocolate and crossing to Yasha. "Unless you've suddenly gained fifteen pounds that I somehow never noticed. Oh, and there's a sword too that's still being shipped over."

"But… why?" Yasha had to query, a bit stunned.

"Because you're my stoic samurai, silly," Kujaku replied, like he should have known this already. "And James, here's the best part: we can play 'Sexy Stoic Samurai' and 'Studly Irreverent Ninja'! See, we can be from two opposing sides, but though I was ordered to kill you I just can't. Because you're so sexy and all."

Yasha really should have been appalled at all this. Reproduction armor cost a ton of money, and that scenario sounded like a hentai plot… or a yaoi plot, technically. Not to mention that putting the armor on just to take it all off again would be a pain.

But nope, nope. Yasha beamed and decided, "And you'll use your secret sex jujitsu to blow my mind. Okay. And I'll slice your clothes off with my expert sword technique." He quickly amended, "Which goes so fast we can't see it, and we'll just have to pretend your clothes are ripped, because I don't feel comfortable actually doing that."

"Deal."

"Deal."

.

When Bishamonten walked beaming into work the next day, he got intrigued glances, amused glances, jealous glances, and a question from the downstairs security.

"And, um, why are we so happy today, Mr. Bishamonten, sir?" one asked. "When you left before Christmas you looked, er, well… angrily distraught and ready to snap. That was Troy's term," he added hastily, gesturing to his partner, who shot him a glare.

"Never you mind, gentlemen," Bishamonten replied serenely, heading to the elevators. "Suffice it to say that my life has markedly improved in the past few days." With that, he stepped into an elevator, leaving Troy to whisper, "Drugs, Bill. I'm sure of it!"

The supposed druggie whistled "Someone Like You" as he strolled into his office, and greeted, "Good morning Victor. Did you have a nice Christmas?"

"Yes I did," Kujaku said happily. "I got one of my favorite movies and an awesome shirt. And what did _you _get, oh boss of mine?" he grinned, having been alerted by Zouchouten. Perhaps Bishamonten would beat around the bush, and Kujaku could –

"I got a CD with my new favorite song, sex, a fiancée, and a relationship with my son," Bishamonten said proudly, dashing Kujaku's hopes of teasing him. "Best Christmas ever. James, how about you?"

"Well…" Yasha turned a bit pink as he replied, "I got some, er, CDs." Which was true; Kujaku had given him no less than four.

"But sir, um… aren't you still technically married to Kisshouten?" he pointed out, somewhat nervously.

"Technically," Bishamonten admitted, hanging his coat up. "Still, the divorce proceedings have been started, and I haven't _married _Shashi yet. I do feel rather bad about this, but I'm sure in time Kisshouten will get over it. After all, she initiated the divorce." Only after he'd lied and almost cheated, but he wasn't thinking about that.

"Well, congrats!" Kujaku chirped, adding a paperclip to his sculpture of an elephant. "Now comes the sticky stuff of the divorce proceedings, but somehow I have the sense you'll get through it."

"I will," Bishamonten told him firmly. "I know I will."

A few hours after the morning briefing, Zouchouten and Koumokuten paid him a little visit. They walked in grinning, and Zouchouten wasted no time in asking, "So did you like our lovely little gift of '21', Reginald?"

Bishamonten's jaw dropped. He'd been trying to figure out who'd sent that thing all day yesterday and this morning, vowing that when he found them he'd thank them profusely. But the best he'd been able to come up with was Kahra and Kumaraten, and he'd been wondering how they'd even known.

"_You two_ sent me that CD?" he asked, flabbergasted. "I thought you hated Shashi."

"Oh, we don't like her very much," Zouchouten admitted, "but we knew _you _do, and we wanted you to be happy. We could tell you still loved her, and we had the sneaking suspicion she just might love you too."

"Not only that," Koumokuten said proudly, "but we've been trying to get you two together for a long time."

Bishamonten simply stared, the seating assignments at the party and the romantic talk to make him jealous making a lot more sense now. Finally he managed, "So Aaron, Xavier… you're the reason…?"

He suddenly felt nearly giddy with thankfulness. Of course they weren't going to group-hug in the middle of the office, Zouchouten probably crushing the other two while Koumokuten whined, "No touchie-feely crap!" But damn it all, this was a special moment of male bonding.

"Thank you." It was a heartfelt whisper, and then Bishamonten grinned himself and added, "Such deviousness really shouldn't be encouraged, but this time I feel like recommending both of you for giant bonuses."

Koumokuten beamed, no doubt thinking of what he could buy, but Zouchouten just shook his head, still grinning, and replied, "No need for that. I'm just happy that you're happy." He smacked Koumokuten on the shoulder and knowingly smirked, "Right Xavier?"

Koumokuten sent Zouchouten a "You sold me up the river" glare, then sighed, smiling too. "Yeah. Reginald, I expect a second kid so I can be its godfather," he commanded, envisioning a mini-Bishamonten with a moldable personality, bwa-ha-ha!

Bishamonten shook his head at such stupidity and said, "No. I have a new son already, and that's enough for me. Not to mention that Shashi's hit menopause." He too smirked at Koumokuten and asked, "Why don't _you _have a second one yourself, if you're so insistent on having an infant around?"

Koumokuten muttered something about how Aguni wasn't very maternal. Zouchouten nodded rather fervently, then looked at his watch and said, "Excuse me. Ellen's waiting for me in the cafeteria, I have to go."

Before Bishamonten could say, "It's not even eleven-thirty," Zouchouten was strolling off, beaming and with a spring in his step. Koumokuten watched him go and shrugged, "I gotta go too, Reginald. Edward got me the wrong coffee again, so he has to be punished."

Bishamonten closed the office door behind him, shaking his head. Oh well… he really couldn't expect anything else.

.

About an hour later, Shashi was in a very good mood as well. Her first patient had even told her, "You know, I feel better now that you're not so serious. You even cracked a joke! It helps, Dr. Prince."

She'd made a mental note to crack more jokes, where appropriate. Obviously telling someone who was already high-strung a humorous story might not work, but if they were merely a little nervous and had a good attitude, it just might make her look better. Which would translate to Dr. Gilbertson appreciating her more, and thus more power, yay!

And she was practically floating today. She pitied all those other doctors and nurses who didn't have what she now did, poor souls. Oh well, not everybody could be as lucky as she was.

"I've got a man now who really loves me – Who'll never turn out to be gay – We can talk to and bond with our son – And then take a roll in the hay," she sang, kicking a leg up behind her in joy as she put that patient's file back in its place.

"He'll buy me a ring I can pick out – Because I'll wear it all my life – He'll move in with me and we'll be so happy – The perfectly-matched husband and wife!" she continued, doing a little spin in her exuberance.

"My goodness!"

At that surprised exclamation she opened her eyes to see Dr. Gilbertson standing in the doorway, looking very intrigued. Some people might have flushed and mumbled something about how they'd thought they were alone, but Shashi just lifted her chin and smiled proudly.

"I'm happy today, Martha," she told her with a smile. "I had a wonderful, _wonderful _Christmas Eve and Christmas." Then, remembering that it was polite to ask after other people, she queried, "Did you?"

"Well, I'm Jewish," Dr. Gilbertson laughed, "but yes, it was a nice night all the same. The girls were still here, they only left on Christmas morning, so we all went out for Chinese food, kind of like that 'A Christmas Story' movie minus the Christianity. Jerry played the piano when we got home… a nice night, and we spent the day just lounging about in our pajamas. And in Jerry's case, the collar too."

Shashi's smile faltered. She'd seen Jerry Gilbertson, and while he was very nice, he wasn't "stud" quality. He was sixty-seven, balding with glasses, and had a potbelly, and the idea of him as Dr. Gilbertson's manslave was kind of cringe-worthy. Still, not everybody into bondage had to be sexy to everybody else.

"So tell me," Dr. Gilbertson asked pleasantly, "what made your Christmas so good, and why you're in such a fantastic mood today."

"Martha," Shashi grinned, her eyes sparkling, "I'm getting married. To the man whose car I hit, left on faulty evidence, had his son without, hid Tenou from, almost married his boss, narrowly avoided kissing at a party, and finally had mind-blowing sex on my couch with: Reginald Clarence Bishamonten, the old lover I told you about."

Dr. Gilbertson blinked in surprise at all that, digested it for a moment, and then laughed, a cheerful peal.

"Isn't it funny," she smiled, "how we run into people we need to run into again? Life works out pretty well, sometimes. Often it doesn't, but when it does… magic."

"Magic," Shashi agreed, reaching for her next patient's file. "I'll never be lonely again."

.  
.

(AN: "I like men now!" is an actual Ralph line from "The Simpsons Movie", delivered after Bart skateboards past him naked as a jaybird. I don't know if they actually make shirts like that, but if they don't they should.

And aww, ain't Tenou darling? Making pancakes, calling Bishamonten "Dad", putting on noise-canceling headphones so his parents can get naughty again… he's something special. That scene was pretty sappy, my apologies.

So, in the epilogue you'll see: Kendappa [finally]! Ryuu's iguanas! Seiryuu and Hakuryuu hitting on the same woman! Zouchouten with family photos! Kisshouten being the awesomest ex-wife ever! And a disturbing conversation between Koumokuten and Aguni.)


	19. Epilogue

**Photographs (two years later)**

_In which there are copious amounts of baby pictures_

.

.

Arthur Taishakuten, President and CEO of Tenkai Corporation, beamed at his Generals of the Boardroom and proclaimed, "Gentlemen, today is a wonderful day."

"Yes it is," Koumokuten agreed, putting down his coffee. His daughter was in her freshman year of college, he'd just bought himself a yacht, and Aguni had been given an award by the state for being "A shining example to physical education teachers everywhere." Yes, today and every day was good.

Bishamonten privately thought the state was insane, but Aguni _did _get results, so for all he knew her model of drill sergeant badgering the cafeteria to stop serving dessert would be implemented in all high schools in a few years. At least her students were healthy, although he had to wonder if any of them cared about that after a semester with Ms. "Psycho" Steel-Koumokuten.

"Aaron," Taishakuten chuckled, "you seem just as pleased as Xavier."

"I'm _more pleased_," Zouchouten assured his boss with a smile. Karura had given birth to baby Andrew John Zouchouten just a month ago, she'd weaned her husband off the coffee (mostly), and the two of them had recently bestowed a generous donation upon the local animal shelter. Karyoubinga was now in third grade and singing better than ever, plus Lola was as affectionate and healthy as could be.

Bishamonten was happy for that family, but there was a new problem: the head of Research and Development had practically wallpapered his office in pictures of his wife and now son, and little Andrew was only a month old. Cubicle dwellers lived in fear of being cornered and asked, "Do you want to see the new pictures I took yesterday?"

"And Reginald." Taishakuten patted Bishamonten on the shoulder and observed, "You seem exceedingly cheerful."

"Why wouldn't I, sir?" Bishamonten asked, grinning. "My life is stunningly fantastic."

His wife had gotten a promotion, his son was acing his college courses, and he no longer had to deal with animatronic snowmen for Christmas. His current neighbors thought "Frosty The Snowman" was a terrible song that couldn't be saved even by the addition of a Fender electric. Sure Seiryuu and Hakuryuu had worn him and Shashi down about coming to their party this Christmas, but they were nice young men. They needed to take off those stupid headbands, but they were decent people.

Plus, Bishamonten had found out that his secretary and assistant were lovers! So now he really _did _know everything that went on in this skyscraper, oh yes. And now that he knew the signs to look for, he'd pegged numerous other people as mates, fuck buddies, or secretly longing for each other. Ha, nobody would fool him twice.

Taishakuten nodded, and then smiled, "My warlords of the boardroom, today's the big day. In just a moment, the fourth Senior Vice President we've all been waiting for will walk through that door, and I assure you, you will all be very pleased by our new major player."

Koumokuten grinned, "Awesome. You know, Darrel was such a loser, always whining about karma and not stepping on the little people. I mean, _Nepal? _He could've moved to Fiji, but he picked Nepal, what a moron."

"Nepal's a nice country," a new voice came from behind him. "Dad's happy there."

Taishakuten smirked as Bishamonten's, Koumokuten's, and Zouchouten's mouths all dropped open. A black-haired woman was standing in the doorway, wearing a pantsuit and accompanied by a grinning Souma. She was grinning herself, big blue eyes sparkling, and with some sort of whacky low headband/connected barrettes thing in her very long hair.

Zouchouten found his voice first, and incredulously asked, "Kendappa Jikokuten? Little Kendie?"

"Yup!" she chirped, walking in and taking the seat next to him facing Koumokuten. "Wow, you guys look just like I remembered you! Except I'd forgotten how creepy Xavier's eyes are."

Koumokuten opened his mouth to retaliate, looked over at the smirking Taishakuten, and thought better of it. Instead he mumbled, "And how did _you _get to be the Senior VP of Real Estate?"

"Well, see, Mom and Dad separated when he got accepted to the monastery as a full monk," she said seriously, "but before that, he taught me a lot of basic business principles. When Mom and I came back to the States, I got accepted to a great college and majored in business. Turns out I'm really good at it!

"I built my own company from the ground up, so it's not like I just _inherited _Dad's position as a girl, that's just dumb. No, I worked hard, and I guess I caught Taishakuten's attention. You all remember the Gandarajah account? Yeah, that was where we encountered each other again," she continued gaily.

"So when he decided to take over my company, he offered me a choice: I could fight him and get steamrollered, or I could join him and be a Senior VP here. He said it was high time he had four Generals again, and hey… who's gonna argue with a much bigger paycheck?" she laughed.

"Ms. Jikokuten," Souma said happily, "you made the _right _choice! I sure like you a lot already, and I can see Aaron and Reginald are impressed too."

Indeed, Bishamonten was _very _impressed, but rather annoyed that such maneuverings had been kept from him. He'd been aware Taishakuten was hiding something big long before the announcement that they'd be getting a new Senior Vice President, and how unfair was that? Wasn't he the most loyal out of everybody?

Oh well. Taishakuten was the king, he could have his way in almost everything.

Bishamonten found himself, an hour later, deciding that he and his pals should squire Kendappa around, since they knew so much. He popped into Zouchouten's office, dragged him away from a phone call with his wife, and endured fretting over, "Andrew didn't want to nurse just now. Should I take him in to see a doctor?"

"He could just be _full_," Bishamonten pointed out, in overly patient tones. "Sometimes they just aren't hungry, you know. I'm sure he'll nurse soon, they get hungry again pretty fast."

"You're right," Zouchouten sighed. "And I even knew that. But _you _know how it is, you get worried about your kid."

"Very true," Bishamonten allowed. "When Tenou first went off to college I had nightmares about him overdosing on drugs, or getting alcohol poisoning, or hooking up with some girl with a thousand and one STDs. Even though he'd never do any of that, you still _worry_."

"I don't even want to _think_ about college," Zouchouten grumbled as they walked to Kendappa's office. "Let me have the infant worries, thanks."

"Hey there," Kendappa greeted when they entered her office, where she was working at her computer. "Something you need?"

"We were wondering if we could give you a tour of the skyscraper," Zouchouten smiled. "Introduce you to various people you might need to know, show you the cafeteria, warn you about some pitfalls to avoid. I know you've met Nina, but you should probably meet everybody else."

"Sounds good to me," she agreed, standing up. "Where to first?"

"You know, Reginald, Kendappa, I think we should have Xavier for this too," Zouchouten said as they all turned to go. "He knows some people better than we do, plus he might get mad if we do this without him. He's touchy like that."

"Hold on, I'll go get him," Bishamonten said over his shoulder, already walking towards Koumokuten's office.

The door was just barely ajar, and being the corporate spymaster, he opened it very quietly to see if he could catch Koumokuten in an act of wrongdoing. And interestingly enough, the Marketing VP was facing the windows, one of his hands in his pocket, his phone to his ear, and talking very quietly.

"Anyway honey," Koumokuten whispered into his phone as Bishamonten tiptoed closer, "we'll have to clean the mansion up before Tamara gets home. …Yeah, that's right, she can't be allowed to see the wall chains."

Bishamonten stood stock still, appalled. Good God… the man was some sort of S & M dungeon master! He'd always kind of suspected this, but _damn._

"Babe," Koumokuten was continuing, "you know, as hot as the candle thing was let's ease off on that, okay? I mean, my chest still hurts. …No no, I didn't say 'never do it again', just 'ease off on it'."

Bishamonten was now wondering if he should clap his hands over his ears and run away screaming. _Does Taishakuten know about this deviancy?_

"…Yeah. _Oh_ yeah. …Uh-huh. Well honey, I have to go. Call me 'Master of your heart' and tell me goodbye, okay? …And goodbye to _you_,you dominatrix goddess red-hot Amazon babe. See you later, Aguni." Koumokuten hung up, grinning, as Bishamonten pretended to have just opened the door.

"Xavier," he called, "Aaron and I are giving Ms. Jikokuten a tour. Care to join us?" _You sick, sick piece of work. _

Although… hmm, that time Shashi had handcuffed him to the headboard hadn't been bad in the least. But that had only involved restraints, not pain! Candle wax? That wouldn't be fun at all, and if Aguni ever suggested that to his wife he'd have to protest in the strongest possible terms.

Unaware of Bishamonten's knowledge of his kinky bedroom activities, Koumokuten was replying, "Sure. Have you introduced her to Victor yet? Either she'll be appalled or she'll love him, that usually seems to be the case."

"No, but she'll meet him soon enough," Bishamonten told him, wondering if that black shirt hid serious bandages. "And somehow I have the sense that she'll love him, she seems to have a pretty good sense of humor."

When they came back, Zouchouten was telling Kendappa, "My current assistant's name is Paul, but he's a temp. My _actual _assistant is my wife, Ellen, but she's on maternity leave."

"Taishakuten lets your have your _wife _as your assistant?" Kendappa asked incredulously. "Isn't that like Business 101, 'Do not work with your lover'?"

"Probably," he admitted with an unrepentant smile, "but you'll find that he allows a lot of things like that, but only if you've earned them. For example, Xavier calls his wife Aguni all the time and Taishakuten doesn't care at all."

Kendappa murmured, "Huh," and wondered if that meant she might be able to get to know that sexy Nina Souma a bit better. A _lot _better. Maybe even "know" in the Biblical sense, Kendappa was a lesbian and thought Souma was not only friendly, smart, and kind, but drop-dead sexy. Boy, she liked that short skirt Souma was wearing today.

"Anyway," Zouchouten was saying, "I recently came back from paternity leave, but we decided Ellen should take longer, Andrew's only a month old."

"Aw, that is so _cute_," Kendappa cooed. "Is he a sweet baby? And you must really love your wife, I can tell that by the way you talk about her."

Zouchouten beamed, having found another person to talk to about his adored family. As Bishamonten backed away slowly, Zouchouten asked Kendappa, "Would you like to see some pictures? I have a whole folder of this week's shots…"

Koumokuten narrowed his eyes at the new Senior Vice President, clearly suspicious. "I don't think I'll like having a woman joining in our manly discussions of harsh business practices," he muttered, crossing his arms.

Bishamonten gave him a "Be nice" glare and insisted, "Ms. Jikokuten is fully qualified. Don't make me tell Aguni you're being sexist."

Koumokuten sighed resignedly and agreed, "Yeah, yeah. I'll be good." Aguni would probably chain him to the wall when it wasn't his turn, lecture him for hours, and refuse to wear the collar ever again if she ever got wind of that one. Oh, feminism… it could be such a hassle sometimes.

Bishamonten nodded grandly and murmured, "Excellent. You know, Xavier, Nina seems quite infatuated with Kendappa already. We should pay attention to her instincts on –"

"Nina's so lesbian I'm surprised she wears a skirt," Koumokuten snapped. "For fuck's sake, Reginald, she's probably gonna pull an Ellen and Aaron in the mail room with Kendie, or something."

Bishamonten sighed, "Xavier, don't use such language. I'm aware that she's a lesbian! I can tell when people are homosexual," he proclaimed matter-of-factly as Yasha and Kujaku walked past the door, both of their ties askew and grinning.

Koumokuten tracked Bishamonten's secretary and assistant with his gaze, then smirked, "Yes, Reginald. Your gaydar is infallible," he said, as sweetly as he could.

Before Bishamonten could lecture him, Koumokuten ducked out of the door, snickering. Bishamonten was about to go after him and snarl something along the lines of "I'm aware of your little hot wax fetish," but a quick glance at the clock made him abandon that thought. Dear lord, it was a quarter to eleven already!

He waved to get Zouchouten's attention. "Aaron?"

Zouchouten took no notice, just continued with, "And this is Andrew with my wonderful wife again. Ellen just loves birds, which is why he has a Big Bird onesie. This is Andrew with his auntie Karyou, Ellen's sister who she loves so very much –"

"Aaron!"

Zouchouten looked up, rather annoyed that he'd been interrupted in this favorite pastime of his. "Yes?" he asked in a resigned sigh.

"It's almost eleven, Aaron," Bishamonten informed him, heading for the door. "I'm off for the rest of the day, and tomorrow too." Which was indescribably lucky, because then he'd miss all the Karura and Andrew adoration. Well, for today and tomorrow, that was. It would be back in full force the day after that, but oh well.

Zouchouten smiled and urged, "Tell Tenou hello from me."

Bishamonten smiled back and promised, "I will. He'll call you, I'm sure." He walked out the door, whistling a happy little tune, as Kendappa asked, "Who's Tenou?"

"His son," Zouchouten answered fondly. "He's coming back from college for summer vacation today. He's a very sweet young man."

Kendappa smiled, "Aww. Does Reginald have baby pictures that I can see too somewhere?" Kendappa honestly and truly loved baby pictures. Well, she'd hit the jackpot here: she'd found the mother lode – er, father lode.

Zouchouten nodded, clicking to the next batch of Andrew-with-Auntie-Karyou pics, and answered, "Yes, but he's not in any of them. It's a complicated story."

Kendappa's eyebrows quirked as she said, "Now I'm curious."

"Here's the abridged version," Kujaku announced, walking in with his tie fixed now and Yasha trailing him. "Ready? Here goes: twenty years ago Reginald was dating and sleeping with Shashi. She ran off and found out she was pregnant. She had the kid and thought she'd never see his dad again. Reginald moved to Zenmi and twelve years ago he married a wonderful, gorgeous woman he didn't deserve.

"Two years ago, our gay boss was dating Shashi, who'd moved here just a year before. He introduced her to his main honchos and she and Baby Daddy met again. Then Taishakuten proposed to her, but then he realized he was gay and broke it off. Meanwhile, Reginald's marriage was failing, and he was palling around with Tenou, who he hadn't realized was his son.

"Kisshouten, his wife, wanted a divorce, 'cause she knew he still had the hots for Shashi. Aaron here," Kujaku patted Zouchouten's shoulder, "and Xavier schemed to get 'em together, and that Christmas he showed up at her house and they had mad animal sex. Last year they got married, and now they live in Shashi's house with the most awesome neighbors _ever_," he concluded happily.

Kendappa managed, "What makes the neighbors so awesome?"

"They're musicians," Zouchouten answered for the secretary. "Well, I mean, technically they're a dermatologist and a computer programmer, but their passion is rock. They're quite good at it, and insist on keeping their hair long, probably so they can whip it around in a masculine display of rebellious exuberance."

Kendappa lit up and laughed, "No way. I'm a musician too! I play the keyboard and the harp!"

As Zouchouten promised to ask Tenou to introduce Kendappa to Hakuryuu, Seiryuu, and Ryuu, Yasha shook his head and asked, "Victor… do you ever feel that we're living in some sort of soap opera? It's uncanny."

.

A few hours later, Bishamonten smiled in domestic bliss. Tenou had met his parents at the airport all smiles and happy to talk about what he'd been up to lately. He was majoring in music at an out-of-state university, and he was eager to show off all he'd learned. He had still getting been through those pesky generals, but come next year, he could focus on what he _really _wanted to do.

Bishamonten kicked back in his living room, holding a glass of lemonade while his beloved ruby (that was his pet name for Shashi) read a book called Why Women Should Rule the World. She was into it, and he was tempted to read it after she did, just to see why it was so great. Then again, a women-ruled world might just be a bit better, especially for all those poor female souls in Islamic and other forms of fundamentalist countries.

Across from them (they were sitting on the couch) was a cage that contained another member of the family: Tenou's beloved guinea pig, who he had held for a long time once he's gotten back. The little one had been his first target when he came in the door, and had been pleased to see him too.

Although the Prince-Bishamonten family had gone into the shelter for a pair of sows, they'd left with a boar. He was a Silky mix, which meant he had long fur and a near-train off his rear like some sort of wedding gown. Unlike some longhaired guineas he didn't have long locks on his head, but he was definitely a longhair and thus needed extra grooming, which Tenou and his parents were only too happy to do.

His name was Tenma. He was a seal point, a very handsome boy with red eyes, dark gray eyelids, ears, paws, nose and mouth, and otherwise white fur. He was now three years old, and he _loved _his people. He didn't like carrots, oddly enough, but he was a parsley fiend.

Bishamonten stood up and looked out the bay window, just for the hell of it. Next door, Seiryuu and Hakuryuu tossed a Frisbee on their lawn, shirtless and headbanded as usual. He liked them, but he agreed with Shashi that they probably had some exhibitionistic tendencies. She no longer thought they were incestuous gay lovers, and Bishamonten had laughed and laughed when Tenou had said she used to.

Ryuu raised his sunglasses and said something to his cousins from a lawn chair, his own shirt off and his headband on too. He was reading a comic book, one that was titled, "The Adventures of Slug Man". Oh, those crazy comic artists… what would they think of next?

He had brought his iguanas to visit today. He had them on leashes attached to their harnesses, and they were crawling around in the grass looking for and sometimes finding bugs to eat. Their names were Wyvern (the big female) and Draco (the also big but slightly smaller male), and for lizards, they were very affectionate.

They adored their owner. But Tenou always felt a bit smug despite himself that he could snuggle Tenma, and Ryuu couldn't snuggle Wyvern and Draco. After all, iguanas were a bit touchy, and tended not to like being held.

And then, a car rolled up in front of the house next to them on the right, two houses down from Bishamonten's. He recalled that today was the day the new owner moved in, as the previous owners had moved out just two days ago. All anybody knew was that she was a single woman, nothing more. Nobody had been home when she looked at the house, but the Ryuu clan was watching the car with interest to see what she was like.

Bishamonten literally jumped as he saw who the new neighbor was: a tall, beautiful woman with masses of long, wavy black hair, a smile on her red lips and holding a pet carrier, which he would bet anything contained a spiky-haired black guinea pig.

"Sha… Sha…"

At her husband's choked noises, Shashi came up behind him and gasped. As they watched, Ryuu and his kin moseyed on over to greet Kisshouten, Wyvern and Draco lagging behind and looking rather confused.

Shashi and Bishamonten turned to each other, and unison asked, "How could this have happened?!"

Kujaku, who had kept in contact with Kisshouten, had been aware of this but decided to keep mum, mostly out of curiosity. Would there be explosions, or would there be friendship? He knew that Kisshouten had for the most part moved on, but nobody could really tell what somebody else would do in this situation.

He'd thought about it, and finally said aloud, "This is gonna get interesting! I think I'll watch for a while, James!"

He'd sworn Yasha to secrecy too, and now, at that very moment, both were wondering if they should oh-so-casually drop in on the Rolling Rago Hills, Royalty Drive to be precise. With their boss out of the office, maybe all they had to do was clock out and take a spin down there.

Bishamonten watched as his ex-wife was blocked from view by Hakuryuu and Seiryuu, and finally took a deep breath and said, "I'm going out there. Ruby, she was upset at first in court but you know she got over it. Victor said she won even more awards and was doing well, so maybe she won't throw a fit."

"Well, _I'm _staying in here," Shashi said firmly. "If all's well you can come back and get me, but I don't want to be yelled at, thank you." She gave him a push towards the door and encouraged, "With witnesses, she might not go berserk when she finds out who she moved in really near to. Maybe you can convince her to calm down."

"Yes… yes, I am good at convincing people to do what I want them to," he agreed, but then pleaded, "Do I _really _have to do this by myself?"

"Yes you do," she commanded, hands on her hips. "Sexykins, go be manly, and I'll thank you for it in my own special way. You know… the way with the ice cubes that you like so mu–"

"Okay," he said quickly, a pervy grin on his face, and opened the door, then walked over to the little gathering in front of Kisshouten's new house.

"Oh, we have three cats," Hakuryuu was saying. "We love animals, right Sei?"

"Boy, is that the truth," Seiryuu replied as Bishamonten came ever closer. "And that is like one of the cutest guinea pigs in the world. He has a mohawk! He's a little punk pig, huh?" he joked, and Kisshouten laughed.

"No no, he's just an Abyssinian," she explained proudly. "It's a common breed, and his hair does that naturally, it's a mutation. They think –"

"Kisshouten?"

At Bishamonten's hail, Hakuryuu turned to the left and Seiryuu turned to the right to reveal the gasping artist, holding the carrier up so Puffball could look out. The guinea pig wheeked a greeting: he remembered that guy!

"Reginald?" his mommy asked incredulously. "What are _you _doing here?"

"I live two houses down," he told her, pointing. "With Shashi, and Tenou. It's – listen, it's good to see you again, Kisshouten," he said, and he honestly meant it.

He'd often wondered how she was doing, if she was happy after what he'd put her through. He no longer regretted it, but that didn't mean he didn't know he'd been in the wrong. Well, clearly her furry baby was okay at least, he'd often wondered how Puffball was too.

He waited for her to get mad. He waited for her to scream and get into her car, drive away, and resell the house without ever living in it. He waited for some sort of "I can't live near this scumbag!" line and for her to kick him in the balls.

Instead…

"It's good to see you too, Reginald," she smiled, an honest tone to her words. "How are you?"

"I'm very good," he told her, incredibly relieved. "I married Shashi, you of course knew I would. Work is going well, and we got Tenou a guinea pig."

"What color?" Kisshouten asked almost eagerly. "What breed? Male or female? If male, perhaps he and Puffball can play, although of course we'll have to be on the alert for any biting. Sometimes male guinea pigs hate other male guinea pigs," she told the confused Ryuu, Seiryuu, and Hakuryuu.

So apparently, Bishamonten thought, any tension had been smoothed over by their common pet interests. Good! And maybe she'd found someone herself, that was why she was so forgiving.

"Kisshouten," he asked her seriously, "have you, well, moved on? I'm surprised that you're not angry to see me."

"Two years ago," she told him solemnly, "I both hated and loved you. Now I don't love you anymore, but I don't hate you either, Reginald."

"Um, I think we might be missing something here," Ryuu cut in, glancing between Bishamonten and Kisshouten. "Are you, like, former flames or something? I'd like an explanation, please."

"I used to be married to Reginald," Kisshouten explained. "I left him because of Shashi. But you know, I made the right decision. As I told him then, I couldn't put myself through loving a man who loved someone else. So this way, I've grown, and he's grown, and I'm sure there will be awkward moments now, but it was the best thing."

"Dude," Ryuu muttered, "dude, you're like… Oprah-understanding, lady."

Hakuryuu whacked him on the head (lightly, but it was still a whack), and snapped, "Nathan, don't be rude! Apologize, you little caveman."

"OW! Sorry," Ryuu muttered, shooting his oldest cousin a glare. "It was a _compliment_, you big dummy. Doesn't every woman want to be told she's like Oprah?!"

Kisshouten laughed, and finally replied, "Then thank you, Nathan. To answer your question if I've moved on, Reginald… yes. I've let you go, and I've made some new friends, and while I haven't found someone special yet, I'm all right. And I'm not going to settle or force it.

"I'm sure that someday I'll find that perfect new man," she said firmly. "He's out there, but I'm not going to obsess over finding him. When the time is right, he'll walk into my life and we'll be very happy together. I just have to keep my eyes open."

Hakuryuu glanced at Seiryuu, who glanced right back at him. In unison, they looked back at Kisshouten and beamed. A mature babe on the rebound! One who was also friendly and liked pets, yay.

_Let the competition commence, _Hakuryuu crowed in his head, smoothing a lock of hair back. _Doctors are sexier, Sei. Especially when they also have a body like mine and hair more attractive than yours._

_Haku, you poor sap, _Seiryuu thought with gleeful pity, _nerds make better lovers. Maybe you can console yourself with work, ha ha! After all, I'm the one your boss went out with once._

Kisshouten smiled back, as behind Hakuryuu Bishamonten's mouth dropped open. She wouldn't… would she?

_Reginald, _his conscience scolded, _you almost cheated on that poor woman and married Shashi a month after the divorce was final! If she wants to doom herself to an eternity of guitar riffs, competition, and exhibitionism, she can._

So Bishamonten left Kisshouten to make small talk ("Why yes, I _do _love music. Handel is my favorite") and went back inside, where Tenou was practicing electric.

"Dad," he grinned, "I didn't hear any yelling so it must be okay, huh?"

Bishamonten considered how to reply to this. Should he say, "Yes son, it's quite all right, because your musical mentors are as we speak hitting on my ex-wife, and unlike your mother she thinks they're charming"? No. He'd instead go with, "Well Tenou, I think it'll all work out. We've buried the hatchet, because Kisshouten is one of those saintly people who can forgive almost anything," he smiled.

"Unlike Mother," Tenou said solemnly, nodding. "When Nathan ran over her pansies she threatened to sue him or slash his tires. I had to talk her out of carrying that threat out, and Nathan thanked me on bended knee."

Bishamonten just smiled some more and chuckled, "Yes Tenou… your mother is something else." And with that he strolled off, whistling.

He passed three framed photos: one of baby Tenou, gurgling happily at the camera and looking even cuter than Andrew (because he was Bishamonten's kid, so of course he was better); a shot of Tenou and his parents, smiling in front of a river; and a wedding photo. In this (biggest) photograph, Shashi and Bishamonten gave the camera near-incandescent smiles, holding hands with cherry trees in full blossom surrounding them. The sun was shining, and by some fortunate quirk a butterfly had alighted on Shashi's bouquet of red, nearly fuchsia roses that matched her husband's hair.

And on the silver frame, a single phrase from "Someone Like You" was inscribed: "Sometimes It Lasts."

**End.**

.

.

(AN: D'aww. You could cut the sappiness with a knife! No, the main pairing has no basis and makes no sense whatsoever in the manga… but AUs are wonderful things, eh?

The comic book Ryuu was reading is an homage to one of my favorite comic strips: "Foxtrot", by Bill Amend. It hasn't shown up for a while, but Jason Fox, the youngest kid, draws a comic called "The Adventures of Slug Man". Shout-out to Bill Amend!

Anyway, it was kinda fun to write Tamara, as I've never written her before in any depth. Spoiled, whiny, and bitchy, but funny in a "poor poor Tenou" way, hopefully. And ha… Aguni versus Tamara was always amusing to create. If you can't tell by now, I quite like the Fire God.

It was also super fun to write Hakuryuu and Seiryuu. I didn't have much to work with other than Hakuryuu's a driven, easily-angered guy and Seiryuu's much more understanding in regards to Ryuu, but each time I saw them I grinned. I think they're awesome, and it's too bad we didn't see more of them in the manga.

So yes, they get to hit on Kisshouten. Maybe nothing will come of it [which would be more realistic], maybe she'll marry one [which would be in tune with my "Pair everyone up!" approach], or maybe she'll move in for a ménage a trois of headbanded debauchery [which is in tune with a hentai plot, and not very realistic at all]. I couldn't just leave her hurting and all alone with Puffball, and yes it was stretching it to have her move in near her ex-husband, but c'mon, at least it offers closure. I'm a huge fan of her, so that's why she gets two younger rockers dancing attendance on her. Yes Kisshouten, you're gorgeous! Take advantage of it.

I'm sorry we got so little Kendappa. I simply love her, just not what CLAMP made her into by Volume 9. Perhaps that's why "Ms. Jikokuten" only came in at the end, as it's my personal opinion that the evil, Souma-killing General of the Eastland Kendie is ludicrous and full of plotholes and contradictions.

Much thanks to ryuusama's disciple, who at the time of this posting is the only person to have given me feedback on "Adele". Yeah, makes it kinda hard to grow as a writer when no one else tells you what they think. If this was so bad, why? If you liked at least parts of it, what should I keep doing?

And I do have a semi-sequel in the works. I say "semi-sequel" because it's mostly everybody else's backstories, such as the unholy meeting of Koumokuten and Aguni, Kujaku singing Lady Gaga's "Lovegame" to Yasha, and Karura's reaction to the giant trove of love letters from Zouchouten that suddenly appeared on her computer. And, to bribe people into reading it… Taishakuten/Lord Ashura. With Ashura here, there, and everywhere!

Not to mention Vahyu and Varuna taking a stand against their boss, Dr. Hakuryuu at the clinic and Seiryuu under attack from a Chinese hacker [and Ryuu versus the in crowd], and Tenou crushing on Kendappa while Souma does the same. And even Tentei making a Bishamonten voodoo doll as Kisshouten moves on, and Kahra and Kumaraten adjusting to life with Shashi's new husband.

Read "Adele: Side Stories" when it comes out, I beg of you. Please? It's more humorous than this one; very little angst. More humor than romance, really.)


End file.
